Hatikva
by kingshammer
Summary: Was Ziva's capture really an accident, or part of an elaborate facade? This about how our favorite NCIS folk search for a truth covered in a multitude of lies.
1. Ziva

A/N: So, alas, yet another post- Aliyah story. I tried my best to resist starting this, but obviously, I failed:-) If you are readying this, please know that I'm deeply appreciative. I do hope you enjoy.

Ch. 1 Ziva

"Tell me everything you know about NCIS," The man's voice was calm, but firm. He was not in a rush. Yet. However, the force with which he pulled her head back was enough to confirm that he was serious.

Concentrating on moving her aching jaw, Ziva's voice came out barely above a harsh whisper, due to hours without water. "NCIS," she paused, locking her one good eye on those of her interrogator, "stands for the Naval Criminal-," Ziva's voice was cut off by a sharp backhand to the already swollen side of her face. She clenched her teeth, willing herself to keep the cry of pain inside.

"You would do well to cooperate, Officer David." The man lit another cigarette.

"So you can kill be sooner?" Ziva's voice was weak in volume, but not in spirit. The man could see the rebellion in her eye. He bent over so that he could stare directly into her face. He then laughed, sending the acrid cigarette smoke into her face.

"Officer, you will be begging for death before we are done. Dying quickly is not an option." He left her alone in the room, with one thought coursing through her head.

_How do they know that I am-was, NCIS?"_


	2. Gibbs

Ch. 2 Gibbs

"Agent Gibbs, you need to choose a new agent."

"Leon, I have a temporary agent. A new agent insinuates that I need a replacement agent, which you know, isn't the case." Gibbs continued to stare at his paper work, drinking a late night coffee. Gibbs had taken the habit of staying late at NCIS since Israel. Vance took notice after the first week and for the following two had used the opportunity to badger him about getting a new agent on his way out.

"Gibbs, Officer David is not coming back. She hasn't contacted you or this team for the past three weeks. She's moved on. It's time you do the same."

"You ever lost anyone close Leon? Family?" Gibbs voice cut like a knife through the tension building in the air, making Vance slightly uncomfortable.

"Close friends." was all Vance said.

"Well, when you lose family, a daughter, you don't just move on after three weeks. It doesn't matter how bad that person may have screwed up or hurt you. You don't forget. My team hasn't moved on Leon, and I refuse to without them."

"Gibbs-",

"Goodnight, Director Vance." Gibbs shut off his light and left Vance standing there, taking the stairs in an attempt to leave the building faster.

_The Basement_

Gibbs took a deep swallow of bourbon, savoring the burn of the alcohol. He was staring into the space that was once a boat, fiddling with a knife in his hands. Ziva's knife. He didn't know when she left it there, but knew quite certainly it was hers. Setting his glass down, he analyzed the knife with two hands. The most remarkable feature was the sharpness of the blade, even after it's neglect. _Just like Ziva, _thought Gibbs. Ziva was sharp, always on top of her game. _At least usually._

Gibbs didn't know what to think anymore and for once, his gut wasn't sending him the usual vibes. He had so many questions with no answers.

_Did she kill her brother to save me, or because of orders?_

_Was she a mole?_

_Where is she now?_

_Why hasn't she called?_

_If she didn't care, why did she come when I lost my memory?_

_Will we ever see her again?_

Gibbs took another swig of bourbon, fighting away the thoughts that were driving him insane. He looked at his watch. _2300. _Putting the knife back in its sheath and pocketing it, Gibbs left his basement, grabbing a jacket on the way out.

_The cemetery_

The night air was warm, but it failed to thaw the cold in Gibbs' heart. He hadn't been to the cemetery in a while. In a way, it felt as though it was his last resort. The place to go when nothing else made sense, because at least in the cemetery, everything was clear and final. Knowing the route by heart, Gibbs walked without a flashlight. Finding the marker, he settled himself on the ground, lying on his back, his head just under the tombstone.

"Tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it." pleaded Gibbs, his ears waiting for an answer.

Closing his eyes, he let his memories of the past months consume him.

Going to LA. Uncovering the sleepers. Micheal Rivkin's interference; on Mossad's orders. Tony's suspicion of Rivkin and his obvious worry over Ziva. The death of the ICE agent. The whole in the security plan. Rivkin's presence at the SecNav's home; on Mossad's orders. Tony killing Rivkin. The Mossad Liaison position. Vance as point man on a op. He trip to Tel Aviv. Tony's interrogation. Ziva's confrontation of Hadar and then Tony. Ziva staying on the tarmac as they flew away.

Gibbs opened his eyes. The thoughts were too much. The emotions that came with them left Gibbs feeling sad. Empty.

"What can't I see? And why can't I find the answers?" asked Gibbs aloud. He was met with silence. He closed his eyes again. His mind filled with images of Shannon and Kelly. Meeting Shannon. Getting married. Holding his baby daughter in his arms. Laughing with them on a beach and playing in a backyard. The images faded and were replaced with those of his team. Abby going on a tangent about some new piece of vital information. McGee valiantly ignoring paper balls being thrown at him by Tony. Ziva laughing at Tony's boyish nature. Ducky and his stories. Memories of the good and the hard times filled his mind. He realized that the good times made the hard times easier to deal with.

He opened his eyes again. This time, they shown with revelation.

Softly Gibbs spoke into the air.

"I trust Ziva." he said simply. With the admission, it felt as though a load had been lifted off his shoulders. It just felt right. Ziva had been a part of his team. Regardless of whatever orders may have put her there, she still was part of the team. She learned from them and they had learned from her. Most importantly, she never backed down when her team needed her help. Not when Tony was accused of murder, _twice, _not when McGee shot the police officer, and not when Gibbs lost his memory. It Vance, not Ziva, who made his heart flutter with uneasiness. Vance manipulated people to achieve his goals, treating them as a means to an end.

Gibbs sat up and turned to face the tombstone. Touching it gently with his fingertips, Gibbs made a promise.

"I won't lose another daughter. Not again." The answer came as a small whisper and Gibbs barely felt it. His mind was clearer, calmer, and so he heard it: _Ask the right questions._

A small smile on his face, Gibbs walked away from the tombstone, leaving his first family to save his current one.


	3. McGee

Ch. 3 McGee

McGee breathed in the night air. It used to be a source of refreshment for him. When his mind was too worked up to write anything worth keeping, he went on walks, taking Jethro for company. He'd grown immensely fond of the German Shepard and rather enjoyed the company on his walks. Now though, instead of clearing his mind, his walks and deep breaths brought into sharp focus the calamity of the world surrounding him.

Ziva was gone, and McGee hated it. He'd never realized how important she was to his team. To an outsider it may have looked as though Tony and Gibbs were the most shaken. McGee thought the outsiders looking in would be right; it did look that way. But in reality, McGee missed her terribly. He missed her differently than Gibbs and Tony though: they were in Israel, they knew what happened, or at least what appeared to happen. They were sorrowful because in addition to missing her, they were the most hurt by whatever happened in Tel Aviv. McGee was sad because a friend left and didn't tell anyone why. He knew there had been a reason supplied; he didn't care. He knew that nothing was ever as it seemed, especially when Mossad was involved. Ziva accused of treason taught him that.

Most of all McGee missed the dynamic that Ziva brought to the team. The temporary agent was dull, spending most of his time making sure he followed Gibbs' rules and staying out of Tony's way. Even McGee couldn't find it in him to comfort the guy. He missed Ziva too much.

McGee was shaken out of his thoughts when something warm and let touched his hand.

"Jethro, don't lick." mutter McGee, too focused on his surroundings to really reprimand the dog. He was in front of Ziva's apartment building. The investigator in him wanted desperately to see the apartment before it went up in flames. It put Ziva's case for innocence at a complete disadvantage. McGee sat at a bench on the sidewalk facing the building. His mind wandered to his badly placed joke about the laptop. Rivkin's laptop. The laptop always seemed to come to the top of his thoughts when he let his mind linger about the team's situation. Something about it bugged him He couldn't place it, but something felt wrong. Part of him felt he was fishing for evidence to completely remove any blemish from Ziva's name. Another part, though, felt that Ziva herself was not as in tune to the entire situation surrounding Rivkin as she appeared to be. Rivkin's laptop.

_Did Ziva even know that Rivkin was hiding it there? _

_If so, did she know that it wasn't Rivkin's laptop, but Abin Tabil's?_

_Why was Rivkin really here and at Abin Tabel's place?_

_Did Ziva know the true reason for Micheal's being there?_

_Is there more to this North African terrorist camp?_

_Why didn't she say goodbye?_

McGee shook his head in an effort to clear it.

_They told me what I need to know. We don't know why Rivkin was here, but that's Mossad's business. If it had anything to do with NCIS Ziva would have told us. Talking to Rivkin doesn't incriminate her. Ishe would have said something if had to do with NCIS. They told me what I need to know. Ziva's in Israel. Her home. Working with Mossad again. They told me what I needed to know._

Jethro began to butt his head into McGee's knee and whine like a puppy. McGee looked at the dog, who seemed to complaining about something.

"Well, there's plenty to complain about Jethro. They told what I need to know. I miss Ziva, but I can't change it." He paused, sighed in frustration, throwing his head back. "Why does that laptop _bother_ me so much!?!" McGee stared up at Ziva's shell of an apartment. Suddenly Gibbs' voice filled his head.

_Rule Number 3:Don't believe what you're told. Double check._

A grin spread across McGee's face. His gut was sending off red flags about that laptop, and for once, he was going to pull a Gibbs, and follow his gut, no matter what the rules said.


	4. DiNozzo

Ch. 4 DiNozzo

Tony let the sound of his shoes slapping on the pavement fill his head, occupying any thought space. Coming home from Israel three weeks ago, he wanted to drown away his woes with a steady flow of alcohol. He'd gotten home that day and just as he had been about to pour a drink, a memory flashed before his eyes.

"_Still beating yourself up over Jenny?" she asked, an eyebrow raised at him._

"_Not as much I used to." he responded._

"_drinking?" she asked, a knowing look in her eyes._

_Tony hesitated for a second. "Not as much as I used to."_

The flashback resulted with Tony throwing the bottle of alcohol as far from himself as possible. Leaving the spilled liquid and the shattered glass on the floor of his kitchen, Tony stormed out of his house. Tony hadn't let a drop of alcohol pass his lips in three weeks. He knew if he did, that memory would just pop up, nagging him, reminding him of how much she once cared. He also knew that if he started drinking down his guilt, he might never be able to stop.

Instead, Tony poured himself into physical exercise. If he was at work and had free time, he was at the NCIS gym, lifting weights or sparring. If he was at home and it rained, he went swimming. If not, he ran. He would run for miles in an attempt to forget, for at least a little while, the mess he found himself a part of. He'd run himself to exhaustion, so that when he finally did go to sleep, he wouldn't be plagued with dreams of Ziva and what had happened in Israel. His mind remained distracted, his heart remained broken, but his body became the image of perfect physical strength and fitness. A pretty box that was empty on the inside.

After awhile, Tony glanced at his watch. _11:00._ He'd set off at about 9:30 and figured he had run seven to eight miles. It had been a long day, the conclusion to an equally long case involving a kidnapped Marine, but Tony still didn't feel tired enough to go home. So he kept running, escaping from his thoughts. At least until he tripped on a root he had not previously seen. He flew forward, his arms going out to brace him. He rolled awkwardly and finally came to a stop. Instead of springing to his feet, he simply lay there, on his back, his arms spread eagle. After a few deep breaths and deciding he wasn't going anywhere fast, he finally asked the question that had been chasing him for three weeks.

"_WHY!?!"_ he shouted, his chest heaving.

_Why didn't she talk to me about Rivkin?_

_Why wouldn't she listen when I told her he was bad?_

_Why didn't I shoot him in the leg?_

_Why couldn't she have gotten home a moment sooner?_

_Why did she stay in Tel Aviv?_

_Why hasn't she called?_

_Why couldn't I swallow my pride for long enough to tell her I was jealous?_

Tony knew he was jealous. He'd been jealous every time she asked. And it wasn't the first time. He remembered vividly the jealously that coursed through him when she was with Micheal after the Hoffman case. He'd wanted to rip the guy's head off. But it was worse this time. At least he hadn't been responsible for hurting Ziva the last time. That was what hurt him the most.

_But come on DiNozzo, _thought Tony to himself,_ lets take everything into account: she lied to you. She said that Rivkin wasn't in town when he was. She had you cover for her went she went out to meet him! She was dishonest about everything concerning the man! She is- was your partner and she should have leveled with you. Instead, she decided to not trust you. It's not your fault for the way things went down. If she were more open, things would have been different._

Another flashback came to him, this one much more painful.

"_You could have shot him in the leg!" she screamed at him, her eyes filled with anger._

"_You. Weren't. There." he repeated, defiance resonating from him._

"Ziva, why can't you get out of my head?" asked a broken Tony, a single tear running down his face. He always claimed that DiNozzo men don't cry. What he always forgot to add was that they don't cry often, because when they did, the reason would have been monumental. More than anything else, Tony wished that he'd a least shot Rivkin in the leg; the bastard would have lived and Ziva would probably hate him for a while, but at least she'd be around.

Laying on his back, he focused his thoughts on everything that had happened before and after Israel. Thoughts of the dead Sleepers and Rivkin interfering with the investigation. The dead ICE 's extraction call. His fight with Rivkin. Discovering Rivkin was way over the legal alcohol level for driving. His interrogation with Eli David. His confrontation with Ziva. Feeling his heart break in two when Ziva didn't get on the plane. Feeling his hope diminish a little bit each day she didn't call or write.

Then, as though somebody had flipped a switch in Tony, he started to analyze the facts as an investigator, an outsider.

_Wait a minute, _he thought, his mind suddenly working in overdrive, the clearest it had been in weeks. _Why was Rivkin at the SecNav's place? Eli David never denied knowledge of Rivkin's presence or that Rivkin killed him. Rivkin was sent. He knew about the meeting. Somehow, Eli David knew about that meeting. That ICE agent's death was an accident, Rivkin being sloppy. Heck, we don't even know what that meeting was about. We never found out what was transmitted across that device. And if Ziva had been in on anything, wouldn't she have accepted Rivkin's death as a casualty of war? Oh God, Ziva really didn't know why Rivkin was here. That's why she called for him to be extracted the night I killed him. She didn't know I was going to be paying her a visit; she decided for herself that Rivkin was a liability. We've missed something big. And doubly big is that Ziva hasn't contacted anyone. She's allowed to hate me. But, there's no reason for her to stop talking to Abby and McGee. The fact that she's been completely silent for three weeks is strange._

After much deliberation, Tony came up with two reasons why Ziva was on his mind: the first was that the facts didn't add up. There was way too much unknown and now Ziva was in the midst of the Israeli side of the mystery, unaware, and most importantly, without back up.

The second was that Ziva, beyond any shadow of a doubt was his best friend. She was always there for him even after his worst mistakes. Ziva brought a vibrancy to Tony's life, making each day different and unpredictable, making him want to come to work to spend time with her. A smile fluttered briefly on Tony's face as he remembered all of the fun moments he'd had with Ziva. To his relief they greatly outweighed the bad moments. And Tony knew that there had been some very bad moments over the last few years. And with a small amount of guilt, Tony realized that Ziva's loyalty was never in question, because she'd always, from the very beginning, pulled her weight. It wasn't her that was causing problems; it was the ones who claimed Ziva belonged to them, tying her to their deception by default.

No matter what she may have done to him, he couldn't hold a grudge. He just couldn't. The possibility that something might be wrong and potentially dangerous for Ziva overpowered his desire to escape and to stay angry at her.

Tony got the his feet, dusting off his hands. He began his run back home. Towards his problems and finally ready to face them head on.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading. I hope you are liking it so far. If so, please, let me know. It can either be a review or otherwise. Yes, I do know that these firt four chapters may not have been the most action packed. Reason being, I want a fairly solid foundation for the rest of the story. I suppose you can lump these first four chapters as the prelude ( or I suppose prolouge, as it's a story, not a piece of music).

I promise that there shall be more action, so if that's what you're waiting for, hold on!

Again, thanks for reading and have a super awesome day.


	5. As It Stands

A/N: The response to the first four chapters was fantastic. Thank you so much. I hope you continue to enjoy. Any questions, feel free to fire me a review or PM.

Ch. 5 As It Stands

The sun was barely up when McGee and Tony burst into the bullpen, Tony from the stairs, McGee from the elevator. Gibbs was taken aback when both marched up to his desk and started speaking at the same time.

"Gibbs, we need to talk," the agents looked at each other, both with an equally confused expression. They both spoke again.

"You first," they said at the same time, Tony rolled his eyes and spoke.

"Boss, we need to talk. Us and Abby and Ducky and Palmer. I have no idea why Probie needs to talk, but we need to talk about-"

"Ziva," interrupted Gibbs, looking between his two agents. Both nodded enthusiastically. Gibbs found the change in his agent remarkable. They'd been robots for the past weeks. They finally seemed back to being themselves.

"Let's go down to autopsy. Less chance of being interrupted." suggested McGee. Gibbs nodded his acquiescence. The trio knew that to be overheard by Director Vance was to invite the director's fury. The elevator stopped at forensics.

"McGee, get Abby. Meet us in autopsy." ordered Gibbs. McGee hurried out.

The forensics lab was quiet and had been so for the better part of three weeks. There was still music, but it was not nearly as loud as it usually was. Another difference was a picture of Ziva on one wall with a tally sheet beneath it. Number of days Ziva had been gone. It appeared as though Labby itself was depressed and knew that things were not right without Ziva around.

McGee proceeded through the doors and found that Abby was not in the main room. Upon further investigation, he noticed her in her back office, working on her computer.

"Hey Abby?" McGee ventured, not wanting to startle her.

"Hey McGee," she greeted. She sounded friendly, but her usual vibrancy was lacking. She like, her lab, was visibly down.

"Hey Abs, we're having a meeting down in autopsy."

"I thought you guys just finished a case. What's in autopsy?" questioned Abby, hers looking at McGee quizzically.

"We, are, um, we need to talk about some recent events." offered McGee. He wasn't sure why, but he didn't feel comfortable speaking about the autopsy meeting openly.

"Did you get a new case?" asked Abby, who was getting annoyed with McGee's evasiveness.

"Not that recent. More like three weeks ago." Abby was about to make a comment on McGee's weird hints until revelation dawned upon her, her face going from understanding to excitement, beaming with a more Abby like joy. She bolted out of her seat, grabbing McGee on her way out of the lab.

"Then why are we still standing here Timmy!?" she asked, clearly much happier than she had been moments before.

_Autopsy_

Autopsy was dark. The red light that indicated an extreme bio hazard was flashing, warding away all other intruders. And much like the last time Ziva was in trouble, her closest friends, this time including Gibbs, were huddled in a tight circle in the corner of autopsy, a single light illuminating their determined faces.

Gibbs spoke first.

"I think we all know that we're here to talk about Ziva. And it's obvious that three weeks without her hasn't made losing her easier, just worse. McGee and DiNozzo have something to say. When they're done, I'll let you know what I think."

"I'll go first," said McGee. Tony let him speak.

"Like you guys, Ziva's been on my mind a lot lately. I couldn't figure out why, but her departure irked me. Something wasn't right, or well, several somethings. I realized the thing that's been bothering me are the laptops. The one at Abin Tabel's and the one at Ziva's apartment. I know that the basic vibe from Mossad was that Rivkin was here under orders. I'm not saying that that's not true. But something tells me that that's not the only thing Rivkin was doing here. I think the answer is on the charred laptop. Except that, well, we didn't get a close enough look at it after we found out about the Somalian training camp. Vance told Abby and I to copy it onto a flash drive and then to catalog the laptop as evidence. Guys, I want another look at that laptop." finished McGee, a longing to finish a job that yet to be completed. The team nodded in understanding, but Abby frowned.

"McGee, you know that getting another look at that laptop is like, going to be virtually impossible. It's been logged under classified. Vance wouldn't leave the lab until he was sure that I logged it that way. Getting another look at it is going to require his signed permission. Something tells me he's not going to give it." McGee nodded knowingly, but looked back up at the group.

"I don't about the rules anymore. Not for this. Even if looking at that laptop means I lose my job. I can't help but feel that something on that laptop is going to effect Ziva in a negative way."

"I agree Probie," cut in Tony, using his declaration as a cue to speak.

"You weren't in Israel, so you don't know this but only yesterday, I realized that the facts of whatever happened don't add up. First, Eli David never denied Michael's presence at the SecNav's house. Which means, Rivkin was under orders _and _Eli David knew whatever it was that meeting was about. Ziva couldn't have known about that order because she didn't immediately know what had happened. We spent plenty of time analyzing that crime scene. Ziva didn't really know what was going on. She can't have. When I found out about the Internet being used by Tabel's computer at Ziva's place, I went straight there. I didn't call her. She called to have Michael extracted because she reasoned for herself that he was a liability. I think somethings wrong, dead wrong. We're missing something that went on behind the scenes and honestly, I think that Ziva's is in trouble because of it." Again, the team nodded their agreement. This time it was Jimmy who spoke up.

"Um, out of curiosity, who else knew about that meeting? Other than Rivkin and well, the people there?" Gibbs answered, his face unhappy.

"Vance knew. We got his car on tape driving past the house." Gibbs knew more, but wasn't ready to let on yet. He knew that Leon Vance knew the meeting was about him. He also knew that SecNav intended to use Vance as point man on an op. An op to get information on Mossad. Gibbs focused on the meeting at hand, not wanting to jump to conclusions before getting the facts.

"I agree with both of you. Ziva killed Ari," Gibbs put a hand up to silence the exclamations of surprise that the sudden questions. "Ari was going to shoot me and so Ziva shot him to save me. When I lost my memory, she came to the hospital. It was her telling me the story, reliving the pain, that brought my memory back. What I'm trying to say is that I have never questioned Ziva's loyalty and that it was stupid to start now and what Tony just said proves it. Vance told me she was under Mossad orders to kill Ari and that saving me was part of a plan to gain my trust. Regardless of why Ziva did it, she saved my life by killing her own flesh and blood. I trust Ziva. She's never given me reason not to. Now Vance, Vance is the one I don't trust. I have some suspicions about him. I won't voice them yet, because they need confirmation."

"So in essence," cut in Ducky's clear voice, " we can conclude that while we all may be hurt by the suddenness of everything, after the smoke has cleared, we still trust Ziva?" he posed the question, looking at the small contingent of friends for an answer. Each looked Ducky in the eye and nodded their accent. "Excellent. So then, as Ziva is still our friend, the question must be raised: why hasn't she contacted us? Any of us?" They were silent for a moment, considering the answer. Tony spoke, his voice quiet, his eyes downcast.

"I think it's because she's in trouble. I know that _I _screwed up with Ziva. I hurt her bad by killing Michael and I haven't apologized for hurting her. But that wouldn't stop her from contacting at least Abby." He looked up, meeting everyone's eyes. " I think somethings up, because at the very least she would have written to say that she was settled. She knew we'd worry. She's known us way to long not to know."

"We have to find her," said Abby.

"This what we need to do. McGee should focus on getting that laptop. I've got a connection down in evidence who owes me a favor. Abby should focus on finding Ziva, or a least some way of contacting her. If she's off the grid, there's got to be some sort of paper trail indicating where she is or what she's been up to. Once McGee gets the information he's looking for off of Tabel's computer, Tony and McGee should investigate any leads they come up with from the computer. Agent Gibbs should follow his suspicions about the director. Dr. Mallard and I can be around to advise and offer suggestions." the looks Jimmy received at that moment were nothing short of bewilderment. At least, everyone except Tony was surprised. Tony grinned at Palmer, proud of his go- to man for advice. Seeming the confused and astonished look, Palmer's beaming grin faltered slightly. His voice became hesitant, less sure.

"O-o-or we c-could, um, do something else," he offered weakly. Gibbs smirked.

"No, I think that that's a solid plan of action. Today is Wednesday. Friday night, eleven o clock. We meet here again. Bring all the information you can find." the team nodded and backed away, ready to start the day. Tony grabbed Jimmy's arm as the assistant walked past him.

"Nicely done, Special Agent Black Lung." he muttered under his breath before striding out.


	6. Questions Without Answers

Ch. 6 Questions Without Answers

By the end of the third week, Ziva had memorized her tormentor's routine. He'd come into the room which was her current residence, just before dawn. He'd smack her into wakefulness, yelling, screaming obscenities. Then badger her with ceaseless questions. If she refused to answer a question, she'd receive a smack to the head. If she responded with a sarcastic response, she'd receive a blow to her stomach or her ribs. There were times where she couldn't help but be sarcastic. She'd been released from the chair and so after twenty or so minutes, he left her writhing on the floor in pain. The cycle repeated itself all day long, her interrogator coming in at lunch time, then at dinner time and then an hour before midnight. Every other day they brought her water and bread at noon. To her surprise and disgust, the food was uncontaminated and a gun was held to her head to make sure she ate it. They'd meant what they'd said about her not dying quickly.

The only thing that changed about the routine was that the beatings got steadily worse. Ziva realized this for the first time on the seventh day of her capture. Her interrogator came in at noon, just as always, but this time he was not asking questions. He simply walked up to Ziva and lit a cigarette. Then after a long drag, he'd reached down and broke Ziva's small finger on her left hand, eliciting the first true cry of pain Ziva had uttered in a week. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her to look at him.

"So you can keep track of how many weeks you've been here." he let her fall to the ground and left the room. To date, Ziva had three broken fingers on her left hand. In addition to just hitting her, her interrogator began to make cuts on her skin with a sharp knife and on occasion used the little bit of her knee exposed through her ripped combats to snuff out his cigarette.

_Three weeks, _thought Ziva, her back leaning against the wall of her prison. _Three weeks I have been in this hell hole, and still I do not know what it is going on. Why has no one come for me? Hadar should have already reported my disappearance. And why do they care about my knowledge of NCIS? If they know I worked there, then they know that I have never come across any information valuable to terrorists. If anything, they should be questioning me about Mossad. _Just then the door opened. Ziva mentally kicked herself, she'd lost track of time. It was now evening.

"David, when will you start cooperating?" he asked striding up to her. He was impatient today. He looked preoccupied, upset about something.

"Has hell frozen over?" a kick to the stomach. Ziva doubled over, her mind focusing on not crying out.

"Tell me about Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He killed your brother, no? Ari Haswari." Ziva didn't answer.

He crouched down next to her and yanked her forward by the collar of her already tattered shirt. His face became ugly, menacing.

"If they hadn't ordered me to keep you alive, you would be dead by now." he shoved her back against the wall and left the room.

_Great, _thought Ziva. _Another mystery. Who wants me kept alive enough to talk, but hurt enough not to fight back? _And truly, Ziva felt totally unable to fight back, at least physically. _Tony would be proud._ For some reason the thought of Tony being proud of her gave feel hope. It was small, but it was there.

A/N: I don't know how happy I am with the way this chapter turned out. I think it's needed for the plot, but I dunno, it felt like I was writing a filler. Anyway, Let me know what you think. I will probably update again tomorrow, Sunday at the latest.

Have a great day!


	7. Fried Hard Drive

A/N: Here are your next three chapters. I apologize for them being a day later than I'd thought I'd get them out by. But hey, schools out, so all is well.

These three chapters are not the most action packed. I wish they were, but they're not. However, they are essential to plot building. So please, hang in there. I promise that the action is most defiantly going to pick up.

Oh, and thank you all so much for the reviews and story alerts and such. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. It makes it much more fun to write, so thank you.

Ch. 7 Fried Hard Drive

McGee waited patiently ans Palmer spoke to the agent working behind evidence. Bogged down by paperwork, McGee couldn't get down to the evidence garage with Jimmy until about three o clock. McGee was far enough away not to hear anything, but he could see that the agent looked uncertain about violating a classified order on a piece of evidence. Finally, Palmer waved McGee over.

The nervous evidence agent spoke up.

"Look, I'm letting you in here because I owe Jimmy a big one, but I swear to God, something goes down and I get questioned, I'm singing like a canary." McGee nodded.

"Then I guess I hope you don't get questioned." Jimmy gave McGee a hearty slap on the back and left the evidence garage. The agent in charge unlocked the cage and brought McGee inside. He led him straight to the back of the garage to a box that read CLASSIFIED 866.

"That's the box Agent McGee. I'll let you get it down. I don't want to know about anything having to do with this case. At all." Again, McGee nodded. Within minutes he was seated at a table, the charred laptop out and his plugged up to it.

Falling into his own world, McGee began to search through the salvaged information. He opened up the information on the Somalian terrorist camp. Instead of just grazing, he read the information in depth. What he found put a frown on his face.

It looked as though this camp had been in existence for a long time. At least for three years. Not only was it a terrorist training camp, but it was center for arms dealing. McGee found records of vast quantities of arms being received by the camp and then shipped out again. They were making a huge profit off being the middle man for arms transactions. Their wealth seemed to be what protected them, money buying the silence of all those who knew the existence of the camp. While McGee found the information valuable, it still didn't easy his uneasiness. So he kept searching. After a few moments, he came up with a list with US addresses. They were from all over the country and the names attached to them generic American names, the kind everybody had and everyone forgot. After closer examination, McGee found two words that made him pale. _Identifications Issued_. The names were fake, but the addresses were not. And on a terrorists computer, it could only mean one thing: sleeepers.

_After all, it was Abin's job, _thought McGee. He figured that this computer had once been Abin's life, keeping track of all of the sleepers connected to the Somalian terrorist camp. The list was thirty five names long.

Suddenly a voice rang out in the evidence garage that made McGee freeze in fear.

"I need to evaluate some evidence. It should be logged as classified." Vance's words where like sharp snaps to McGee. He froze in place barely breathing, swearing that Vance would be able to hear the hum of the laptop.

"Um, sorry director, I can't let you into the garage." The voice of the evidence worker made a blossom of hope bloom in McGee's stomach. As silently as possible he closed the screen of his computer. Placing it under the charred one, he put both in the the evidence box. Vance began to speak again.

"May I ask why the Director of NCIS is not permitted in the NCIS evidence garage." To McGee's surprise, the agent held his ground.

"Yes Sir. I'm sorry. There's been an issue with a minor case. Agents involved think that it might have been an issue with the chain of evidence. Can't let anyone in our out until the issue's sorted." Quietly as he could McGee edged his way behind the shelf concealing him from Vance. Ever so cautiously, he peaked around the corner. Vance looked close to exploding.

"Look you listen to me. I need that box. _Now. _What's in that box means more than the rules. So cut the crap and let me in." McGee thought he was done for sure, but again, the agent's voice rang out through the garage.

"No Director Vance. You have to understand, you don't have any say in the matter. I hate to be disrespectful, but these rules are made by those higher up than you. Give us another three hours and we'll have it sorted." Vance took a couple of deep breaths before speaking.

"You have an hour." He strode to the elevator. McGee sank to the ground and wiped his sweating forehead. He heard the steps of the agent walk to him.

"Just to be clear Agent McGee: When I said that I'd sing like a canary, I meant when I got questioned. I didn't consider that being questioned." McGee quickly took a scrap of paper from his pocket and scrawled a number on it.

"You need anything, ever, that's my number. Because now I owe you a big one. Don't ever hesitate to call." McGee was beyond relief.

"I'll keep that in mind McGee. Now you've got fifty minutes to scram before Vance gets back." McGee nodded and the agent strode away.

Now, McGee was even more uneasy. Vance knew more than he'd let on. Something in the evidence box. McGee knew it couldn't be the computer. Vance would need a tech to look at it and McGee would know if any had been approached. They still called him boss when ever they saw hi. As before, he continued to search. After many more minutes, he came across an unnamed file. He opened it. It was a letter in Arabic. _Damn my language skills, _thought McGee bitterly. In addition to all the previous lists and facts McGee copied the file onto his computer. Still not satisfied, but feeling as if he were on the right track McGee continued searching. Clicking on a file, he discovered it was the computer's history. He read it and his heart felt one emotion. Fear. The contents of the computer had been copied to another computer. However, it wasn't that there was now a third party involved that scared McGee, even though that was problematic enough. It was that the computer that had the copy of Abin Tabel's hard drive was registered under the Israeli Embassy.


	8. Hunting Revelations

Ch. 8 Hunting Revelations

Abby was running on pure Caf- Pow. Much to her dismay, she'd been swamped with forensic evidence to process and so to avoid suspicion, she hadn't been able to start her search for Ziva. It frustrated her to no end. It was already five in the afternoon when she'd started to look for Ziva.

"Where to start first." Abby sat in her spinning chair, revolving in a small circle. Finally, after pondering all the possible areas for her to start, a thought creped into her mind. Ziva's emails with Rivkin. While they may not pertain at all to Rivkin's actions, at the very least they might provide insight as to what news Ziva might have received from Rivkin about Mossad.

Using her best Gibbs voice Abby spoke aloud to herself.

"Assuming Ziva is safe, the first place to look would be Mossad. So find out what the Mossad agent said to her."

Pulling up the emails, Abby was reminded that they were in Hebrew. Painstakingly, she began to run the emails through the translator program. After about ten minutes, the first email came back. I was dated four weeks before the trip to Israel. Abby began to read through the emails, looking for clues or any mention of Mossad. She found them, but they weren't what she was hoping for.

The emails between Michael and Ziva were nothing short of normal. They talked like old friends. They talked about Mossad, but mostly in reference to things that had happened in the past old missions, old friends they'd both know. Michael told her about who'd gotten married, who'd had kids, who'd died on mission.

They had been friends. The further along the emails she went, the more Michael's tone began to change. He spoke of how much he missed her company and how hard it was to trust the people of Mossad. He complained about the politics and how they seemed to be the things dictating the decisions made by Mossad. Rather than agreeing with him, Ziva continued to assert that orders were orders and one had to follow them, so long as they weren't costing innocent lives. Michael seemed unwilling to agree with her. Finally in an email dated about three days before Michael arrived in DC caught Abby's attention as it mentioned NCIS.

_Do you not get frustrated with those you work with? Have you never wanted take things into your own hands? The desire to escape Mossad's idiotic policies grows in me everyday._

_No. There are times when I disagree with my superiors, but I have never wanted to do things on my own. I trust them Michael, to do the right thing. In the end, that is usually what happens. I am sorry that you have to be around the bureaucrats, but truly, I am happy to be at NCIS where I can escape it all. Just do your job and let the politicians do theirs._

Just then, Tony came into the lab.

"Hey Abby, how's it coming?"

"I just got through with Ziva's and Rivkin's emails. There's nothing here! They don't give any specifics about Mossad or any big ops that Michael may have been involved in. It's just friends talking, back and forth." Abby sat in her chair with a huff, resuming her slow spin.

"I want to try to break into Mossad's network next. It's possible that her father sent her on a mission and she's not allowed to make outside contact."

"What kind of father sends their daughter on a mission when they are an emotional mess?" asked Tony in disgust, coming to look at the screen Abby had pulled up.

"The kind of father who also happens to be the director of Mossad, Tony. She's an agent to him, not his daughter. At least, not when she's completely under his jurisdiction again." Replied Abby as Tony read. A wide grin spread across his face.

"Abby this is great." Abby was confused and looked at him.

"Abby, this confirms that Ziva didn't know what was going on. She didn't know why Rivkin was here." Tony felt as if a large weight had been removed from his shoulders.

"Tony, we still didn't get anything useful from them."

"Yes, but Abby, this means that no matter why Ziva decided to stay in Israel, she was always loyal to NCIS. Is still loyal. And, it also proves that Rivkin had some less them warm feelings toward his boss. He didn't tell her anything and she wasn't in contact with her father." He took another look at the screen.

"Abby, what's this in the corner?" indicating to a small box that seemed to be relaying a video feed.

Abby blushed slightly.

"Well, I know how we're not supposed to let anyone know what we're up to. I've been paranoid all day, so I tapped into the feed to the camera outside my lab. That way, if anyone less than pleasant was coming to pay me a visit, I would be able to minimize any windows on the screen that would raise suspicion."

"That's very cool Abby."

"And look, here it is working it's magic now. Looks like McGee's got something."

A moment later, McGee burst through the lab doors.

"Guys, I've got something."

"Spill Probie." stated Tony, inviting McGee to speak.

"I was able to get a good look at Abin Tabel's computer. This terrorist camp is bad news. They seem to be the big middle man for illegal arms deals. I also found a list of what I think are Sleepers. There are thirty five names on the list, all the names generic American ones. Something else too. While I was down there, Vance showed up. He wanted the evidence box I was working in. He got real nasty with the agent, who wouldn't let him into the garage. I didn't get a chance to look through the rest of the evidence, but there's something in the box that Vance wants." Tony pondered McGee's words, his curiosity about Vance spiking.

"Well, Gibbs left for the night. It sounded like he had plans. He told be not to call him at all and that he'd fill me in later. It's what, about six now. We should head home." Abby and McGee's mouths dropped. They'd never imagine that Tony would be the one to call of the search for the night.

"Look guys, I want to work straight through the night too, but if we're going to keep this on the down low, we have to go home. Everyone knows we're not working a big case." Slowly, McGee and Abby nodded their heads. Tony turned his heel to leave when McGee spoke again.

"Tony, I think you should know now and then I think we need to tell Gibbs first thing tomorrow: there was a copy made of all the information on Tabel's computer. The fried computer still had it history log saved. The computer that the copy was made onto was licensed to the Israeli Embassy. Someone at the Embassy knew what Tabel was up to."

"Do you know who McGee?" Tony's voice was calm, but inside, his mind was roaring. Whatever they had missed ran deeper than originally supposed.

"No, not yet. That's going to require us to go to the Embassy to find out. Oh, and I also found a letter in Arabic. It needs to be translated."

"Tomorrow. Translate it tomorrow while you help Abby hack Mossad's network. Go home and get rest, because I have a gut feeling that we won't have the luxury for much longer."


	9. The SecNav's Bourbon

Ch. 9 The SecNav's Bourbon

It was dark when Gibb's rang the door bell. All day he'd occupied himself with paper work and drinking coffee, unable to do anything else involving Ziva until he received intelligence from his team or the day was over. It was now that the day was over that he could finally go to work.

The door was answered by a butler.

"Yes sir, how can I help you?"

"I'm here to see the secretary. I know he doesn't expect me, but please, tell him it's Gibbs." moments later the SecNav himself was at the door.

"Jethro. I must admit, this is a surprise." Phillip Davenport opened the door wide for Gibbs to come in.

"It shouldn't be Phil. You had to have known I'd be back to talk to you."

"This is about that last conversation we had in your basement, isn't it?" Davenport shook his head, a knowing smile on his face. "Come into my study. I'll pour you a drink and then we can talk."

Gibbs swirled the bourbon in his glass, watching the amber liquid glow in the dim light of Phillip Davenport's study.

"Alright Gibbs. Tell me why you couldn't leave well enough alone." Gibbs eyes hardened.

"Well enough? Because with all due respect, nothing is well enough. Something stinks and I'm trying to figure out what."

"Why Gibbs? It doesn't effect you. Has nothing to do with you."

"No, but it may effect a certain young lady who I hold very dear to my heart. So, if it concerns her, it concerns me. Now, tell me. What is the op that Vance is point man on?" Davenport began to pace, wondering how much to tell Gibbs and where to start.

"As I told you before, Vance is going to be point man on a major op. You see, myself and the other intelligence heads feel that it is somewhat unwise to have such a high ranking intelligence officer around so much sensitive information. Information about our national security."

"A control officer is suddenly a top ranking officer? Am I getting old Phil?" Gibbs voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Cut the crap Gibbs. She'd Eli David's daughter. Her brother became a mole for Mossad before switching over. Who's to say she's not a mole, huh? Lord only knows what kind of information she's passed on. It was unwise to keep her on staff for so long."

"Officer Ziva David is loyal to NCIS. Damn it, Phil, if you only knew her you'd know that."

"That so Gibbs? Okay, then explain something to me. Why did she disobey direct orders during that war game? She was ordered specifically not to engage. Does she enjoy beating the crap out our Marines?" Phil stopped pacing looking at Gibbs for an answer.

"She disobeyed orders because of her partner." Gibbs never let on to his agents that he suspected why they had failed to follow orders to a tee. "A gunshot went off and she saw her partner go down. There was no way to tell that he wasn't shot. I would have done the exact same thing."

"Gibbs, why do you trust her? I know about your famous gut and it's got to be more than that."

Gibbs took a deep breath. He knew that the only way to get SecNav on his side was to put a certain amount of trust in the man. He needed to provide proof.

"I trust Ziva David because she shot Ari Haswari to save my life. He was about to pull the trigger when she shot him. And I don't give a damn about what Vance says her orders may have been. All I know is that it broke her heart to shoot Haswari. Broke her heart to pieces." Gibbs took a sip of bourbon.

"She could have been on orders Gibbs. I know you don't like Vance. But the fact is she could have been on orders. If that's the only reason you trust her, it's a weak trust."

"When I lost my memory, she came to the hospital. She made me angry, intentionally. She forced me to remember. When she was accused of murder and treason, instead of accepting Mossad's protection, she called me, asking me to help her. She has pulled her weight as an agent. And, that's it. What you're not understanding is that none of my agents are exposed to intelligence worth passing on. She said it herself. She's an investigator now, not just a killer."

"Then why did she stay in Israel?"

"Because she needed time to discover who she could trust. Look Phil, somethings wrong. The situation isn't so cut and dry. I'm tired of talking about Ziva David's loyalty to the agency because it has never been in question. Now, I need to know about Vance's operation."

SecNav refilled his drink and sat on winged arm chair.

"Well Gibbs, like I said, the op is against our friends, the Israelis. Regardless of what you say about young David, and regardless of whether or not it's true, you can't deny that Mossad has been rather active on the state side recently." SecNav paused watching Gibbs face as he processed the information.

"You want to know why." stated Gibbs.

"Well absolutely. We wouldn't be doing a good job of protecting the home front if another country's intelligence agency had free reign to do as they pleased. We planned that meeting after the events in Los Angeles. We decided that Rivkin in town without us knowing was too risky. We want to know what they know about potential threats. So who better to use to get the intel than Vance?"

Gibbs was slightly confused. "Vance work with Mossad before?"

"Really Gibbs, you should have read that CIA report. You see, Vance and Eli David go way back. They did some joint NCIS Mossad work back when you where still a gunny. They worked together in Europe and as far as I know, which is a lot more than people give me credit for, they're still close buddies. We figured the friendship is a good cover."

Gibbs felt a flash of anger. "Phil, you destroy a friendship by using it as a cover. David figures out he's being played and the US is screwed."

"Well then we better hope that Vance plays his cards right Gibbs. Understand that Vance has free reign to do as he sees fit. We don't know or even care about the methods really. Just so long as he doesn't get caught and we don't lose one of our closest allies."

Gibbs was still angry. Vance with free reign was terrifying to think about. "Do you even realize how many people could get hurt, will get hurt, if this goes wrong?"

"It's a risk we're willing to take Gibbs."

A/N: Again, thank you all so much for reading. Like I mentioned before, the action will pick up.

And now, I have a favor to ask: So during the summer, I like to catch up on reading. So if anyone has a book the really like and think others should read, lemme know.

Again, thanks for reading.


	10. Loading the Cannon

A/N: Thanks so much for the continued interest. Here are the next couple of chapters. I hope you enjoy.

Ch. 10 Loading the Cannon

Tony could make Abby and McGee go home early. But he couldn't stop them from coming in early. At six a clock in the morning, Labby was full of life.

"I've been working on isolating Mossad's network and I should be ready to hack in about ten minutes, Abs." Despite his restless sleep, McGee was alert, his eyes focused. His adrenaline always kicked in just before he was about to hack a system.

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm setting up this letter to translate." Abby typed with one hand and slurped on a Caf- Pow with the other. Also anxious to get moving, Abby was getting a head start on her caffeine intake.

"Alright Abby, I'm set." A fine sheen of sweat began to form on McGee's brow. _I'm about to hack into on of the world's most covert intelligence agencies. If they find out, I'm dead._

Abby seemed to be reading his mind.

"McGee we're doing this for Ziva. I will not rest until everything we can possibly do to find her is done. And neither are you." Abby's voice had taken on it's rare tone of seriousness. McGee nodded.

"For Ziva," he mumbled. Making eye contact with Abby and giving one big nod, he began to hack Mossad's system.

Labby had gone silent, save the sound of rapidly typing keys. McGee's face was pure concentration as he passed through encryptions and firewalls. Finally, he found what he wanted. Operations in progress. Shifting through various files, keeping his mind from beong distracted by the interesting titles, he finally found the entry for an op running in Somalia. Copying the information and pulling out of the system as subtly as he entered, McGee's heart rate began to slow down. And finally, he was out.

He sat back in his chair breathing a sigh of relief. Suddenly he felt Abby's arms around his shoulders.

"That's my little computer hacker. Good job Timmy."

"Thanks Abs." Abby released McGee and turned to his computer. Upon seeing the document, she let out a groan.

"_Why _does _everything _have to be in a foreign language? I'm send this through the translator."

"Hey, Abby, in the mean time let's look at that letter from Tabel's laptop." Abby paused slightly, looking unsure.

"Shouldn't we wait for Tony?"

"Wait's over guys," Tony walked into the lab bearing a tray of coffee and a Caf- Pow. Placing down his burden he strode to the plasma revealing the translated document. His easy grin faded into a frown as he read.

_Abin Tabel,_

_Shalom. Unfortunately, for you, this means goodbye. This letter is to indicate to you that we have been compromised. Our actions in the United States have hit the radar and there is not much time left to execute our fall out measures. You are doubting this information; I have known you long enough to be able to tell._

_There was a run in with NCIS. Our operations have crossed path and they know of my presence here. Fortunately, Ziva David confirmed my position as a Mossad officer, buying me some time. However, they are suspicious._

_I have Mossad business to complete in Washington. I will arrive there soon. You must contact The Connection and inform him of the situation. We need to safe- guard our intelligence. Tell The Connection to bring the necessary equipment to do so. The Connection should them proceed to inform our brothers in Somalia. _

_Michael A. Rivkin_

"Rivkin was a double agent," stated McGee, his mind slightly awed.

"Guys, I've got the mission for Ziva translated." Abby's voice sounded slightly fearful.

"Abs, what's wrong?" asked Tony, concerned for what she had found.

"It's not good Tony. This folder is simply entitled Somalia. It's got everything from the beginning. It was Rivkin's mission to infiltrate the camp. Find its members and find information. He found an American extension in Los Angeles. They were small time arms runners. It says Rivkin was temporarily diverted from his mission to complete a Mossad assignment. Eli David signed off on it. Then, it records Rivkin's death. That's where Ziva comes in. effective three days after Rivkin's death, Ziva was officially read in on the assignment. Her task was to infiltrate the actual camp and find out their plans. She was supposed to have entered as a new recruit. And that's the last we see."

"Wait, so Ziva went in there all alone, no back up?" Tony heart fell upon hearing that there was no report since Ziva had gone in. Three weeks was a long time, and Ziva was efficient. She should have had her intelligence and already been out of there.

"Well, not entirely alone. She has a handler: Mossad Officer Amit Hadar. No reports from him either. Based on the file, Mossad does not seem overtly concerned."

Tony nodded his head as if making a decision. He looked at his co-workers.

"I'm going to talk to Gibbs. He needs to know this stuff. Keep working to see if you find anything else."


	11. Appearences

Ch. 11 Appearances

Ziva's mind was working quickly.

_It has been three weeks since I have been here and no one has come for me. I have not gained any intelligence on this camp. So I am just a prisoner. Fine. But I am also a product of the Kidon. I am not helpless and refuse to be so anymore._

She took an assessment of her injuries. Bruised and swollen face, three broken fingers on her left hand. Maybe two or three broken ribs. Knife injuries were numerous, centered mainly on her back and arms. Bruises and abrasions everywhere.

_Not the best condition, but not the worst. Think of the positives: your legs work fine. Except for the broken fingers, your arms and hands are fine. You can move Ziva. And if you can move you can fight._

Ziva had tried fighting when she'd first been captured. It proved to be futile then. Her interrogator knew that she was strong then and took necessary precautions. Now, however, the story was different. In truth, she wasn't nearly as strong as when she'd arrived, but she wasn't helpless either.

Hearing footsteps at the door coming towards her door, Ziva made a swift decision.

Her interrogator entered, reverting back to his screaming questions. All Ziva felt for the next half hour were kicks, punches, and cuts from his damned knife. Finally, after sheathing his knife, he lifted her off the ground, bringing her face to his.

"Still no answers? Maybe you need more motivation?" he asked, a suggestive look in his eyes. Ziva knowing exactly what he meant, Ziva placed a well aimed knee into his groin. Crying out, he slammed her against the wall and punched her in the stomach. He let her slide to the floor and left in a fury. Ziva's eyes teared from the pain, and she coughed with an effort to regain air in her lungs. But she didn't care. In fact she smiled.

Because know she had her tormentor's knife.

Ziva waited for the rest of that day. She knew there was one beating to come and she tried with all her might to preserve her strength for it. She'd concealed the knife as best she could, playing over in her mind the dozens of different scenarios that could take place when her interrogator came in to torment her. She knew that regardless of what he did, she would have one shot in taking him down. It was an opportunity that she was not going to miss.

Finally, the time came. Her door swung open.

"Tell me everything you know about NCIS!" he shouted, his demeanor in total contrast to the one he'd had the first time he'd asked that question. The first time he was calm, convinced of his ability to break the captured woman. Now, he was frustrated and tired of interrogating her. The pleasure in tormenting her her had run thin. And he directed all of his frustration at her. It had become hit before you ask questions, and again afterwards if he didn't like the answer. And he never liked the answers he received. Much as he had during the previous interrogation, he questioned and hit her mercilessly. Then, Ziva's moment came.

He bent over Ziva, who lying on her side. As soon as she could see his face, she lashed out with her foot, striking his knee which let out a sickening crack. He fell to the floor howling in pain. Ziva didn't give him a moment to move. In an instant, she her arm around his throat and his knife just barely touching his skin.

"Who is giving you orders?" she asked fiercely. When he didn't answer she pushed the point of his knife into his throat ever so slightly.

"You answer, or you bleed to death. Who gives you orders?!" Before the man could answer, a tall figure appeared at the door.

"ZIVA!" the man shouted, his gun pointed at Ziva and her torturer.

Ziva was in shock. After weeks of nothing, no contact from anyone, he was standing there.

"Hadar?" she retained a firm grip over her interrogator, but her eyes were trained on Amit Hadar.

"Ziva, everything is going to be fine. You just need to put that knife down." Ziva wanted to listen to Hadar, but couldn't see why she had to let her prisoner go.

"Hadar, he has tortured me. Kept me locked up here. He would kill me. Why why should I let this shit go free?"

"Because Ziva, we may need to question him. He is high up in the hierarchy of this camp. It would be unwise to kill him. Put the knife down." Ziva wanted to end her interrogator's life. Release all the anger she'd been building up into one swift cut across his throat. But here was Hadar, her control officer, issuing an order. He had come for her, so surely she do as he said.

"Hadar, how did you find me?" Ziva asked, still holding the knife to her interrogator's throat.

"Ziva David, it unimportant right now. What is of importance is that you drop that knife. Everything will be fine." After what seemed like eons of hesitation, Ziva tossed the knife in front of her, letting it fall with a clatter to the floor.

"Good." Said Hadar, holstering his gun. Ziva's mind just began to process the strangeness of his act when ow smashed itself into her stomach. Her grip weakened, her prisoner spun and smashed a fist into her face, successfully breaking her nose. Ziva was on the floor, crying because of the pain coursing through her stomach and face. Hadar walked up to her and kicked her onto her back, bent down and grabbed her her, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"W-why Hadar?" Her voice was raspy weak, all previous confidence shattered by the pain. Not the pain of her injuries, but the pain of the betrayal.

"Why, Zivaleh? Ask the man you call father. Ask him why his officer has turned." He flicked her broken nose, causing her to wince in pain, and then left her bleeding and crying on the floor.

With Hadar's departure, Ziva let go of any hope that Mossad would come for her. He was in control of communication with Mossad and would only report that the mission was going as planned. They'd never know she was in trouble, and so they'd never come.

_But maybe,_she thought,_ just maybe NCIS will come._

With that last inkling of hope, Ziva reached into her moth with her index finger, feeling until she'd found her farthest back molar. With as much concentration and energy she had left, she pushed the top on the molar down, activating a small hidden piece of technology, her last hope in ever escaping her prison.


	12. Chit Chat

Ch. 12 Chit Chat

"-- and Amit Hadar is her control officer. Boss, there's no report from either of them in the file. I would think at least Hadar would report, unless something went really bad. What are we going to do?" Gibbs did not answer Tony but instead sipped on his coffee. He was trying to but the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It seemed that the only thing he was missing was the edge of the puzzle. Between Tony's report and bourbon with Philip Davenport, he had many ideas and suspicions, but none of them were concrete. Now, it was time to talk to the director. He needed the edge of the puzzle.

"Boss?" Tony saw the far off look in Gibbs' eyes and knew that the older man was deep in thought.

"You're with me. We're going have a word with Director Vance. Get McGee and Abby. I want McGee to drive her to the Israeli embassy. The two of them need to think of a good reason to get a look at that computer. Abby has to go in. If they see McGee, they'll catch on to us. But I want to know who was using that computer. Go, now." Tony whipped out his phone and had a hurried conversation with McGee. Then he hurried off after his boss who was headed to the director's office.

ooooOOoooo

Vance rubbed his eyes as weariness attempted to creep up on him.

_Not as young as I used to be,_he thought to himself with a sigh. He continued to shuffle through papers, taking notes of intelligence from several ops. A faint beeping interrupted his thoughts. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his palm pilot. A tiny red alert was flashing, and underneath was a set of coordinates. Vance let out an audible groan.

"Shit," he whispered to himself. He was just about to climb out of his desk when his door burst open and Gibbs came in, a determined angry look on his face. An equally determined Anthony DiNozzo was hot on his tail.

"We need to talk Leon. And we need honesty. No more beating around the bush. I know about the op that SecNav has you running. Where does Ziva David fit." Gibbs spilled out without preamble. Vance, sighed and shook his head, knowing there wasn't going to be much he could withhold. Standing up, we went to his liquor counter and poured himself a drink.

"I've heard about your ability to appear when theres developments in a case. It seems you fail to disappoint. I suppose the best way to start this is that Officer Ziva David is working for NCIS. SecNav wanted me to find get intel on Mossad. He informed me of the task right after the incident at his house. However, it was not until DiNozzo here put the bullets in Rivkin that Officer David was involved at all."

"Leon, what did you do? And what is she doing?" Gibbs had no patience for Leon's games.

"Before we left for Tel Aviv, I had a conversation with Officer David. I showed her the picture of Rivkin with his girlfriend. The sister of one of the men he killed. I asked her again, what was Rivkin doing in Los Angeles. She said she didn't know and I took her at her word. Then I made a proposition. I asked Officer David if she knew what intelligence Mossad was hiding. Again, she said no. So I asked her if she would be willing to find out. She was unsure at first. So this was the proposition: she would stay in Israel and find out what she could, namely about any intel about sleepers in the United States that Mossad was neglecting to tell us about. In return, should she decide that she not want to continue to work Mossad, she would have a position waiting for her at NCIS, as well as American citizenship. She accepted. I think that photo made her really consider what exactly she means to Mossad." Vance took a sip of his drink.

"How could do that Leon? She was emotional. She needed time to heal, not to be sent out on another mission. Now, essentially, two missions, because Mossad sent her out to finish Rivkin's job. What were you thinking Leon? She could be dead!" Gibbs was furious. He despised that Leon would use Ziva's weakened emotional state against her. Using that picture to breed mistrust in her heart.

"She's not. A mere moment before you came through that door, I got an alert on my palm pilot. It was an alert indicating that a GPS locater had been turned on. Before Ziva left, we had that locater placed as a cap on one of her teeth. She was only supposed to activate it something went south. And apparently it has."

"So she's not dead, but she's in danger? Because you put her there. You let her go back Leon. Tell me something, why didn't you ask her if she knew why Rivkin was at the SecNav's house." Vance's eyes flashed.

"It none of your concern Gibbs." Vance was getting angry now. Gibbs was waltzing into dangerous territory.

"I see," said Gibbs nodding his head, "You're trading favors with Eli David? He asked you for something, so in return, he had Rivkin spy on that meeting when you couldn't get close." Gibbs could see in Vance's eyes that he was right.

"What are doing for Eli, Leon?" Deciding that Gibbs would never give up, Vance conceded.

"Director David suspected a mole in Mossad. He asked me to help weed him out." New realization dawned on Gibbs' face.

"You have Ziva at Mossad to fulfill your half of the bargain. You knew what Eli would do when Rivkin died. Damn it Leon, she could be in trouble because of your stupid bargain. Where is she?" Gibbs demanded.

"She's in Somalia according to the coordinates." Tony was amazed at the answers an angry Gibbs could get from people.

"Then we're on the next plane to Africa." Gibbs turned to go, Tony in his wake ready to spring into action. Vance's voice caused them to pause.

"Gibbs, I don't plan on stopping you because I know you won't listen. You leave 0600 tomorrow. You get the coordinates, you go in a get her. A simple extraction." Leon paused and fixed Gibbs with his stare. "Remember who's in charge of this agency, Gibbs. I can have my agents do as I please. I don't need your permission." Before Tony could even react to Vance's words, Vance was on the floor, holding a hand to his bloodied lip. Gibbs was standing over him, his fist still clenched, his eyes flashing a cold, ice blue. Tony would have sworn the room itself got several degrees colder simply because Gibbs' eyes had such a cold, murderous appearance.

"These are not just agents Leon, they're people. My people. Nobody messes with my people Leon. I will die before I see harm come to them. _Any _of them. Including Officer David." With that, Gibbs turned his heel and stormed out of the Director's office.

A/N: I hope these chapters are well received. Please, lemme know what you think. Have an awesome weekend.


	13. Diplomacy

A/N: Hello all. I apologize for the severe lack of updating. I hope these next few chapters suffice.

Ch. 13 Diplomacy

"Excuse me, miss, but if you do not calm down, I am going to have ask security to escort you out!" Yelled the disheveled desk officer. By now, all of his professional politeness was gone. He was on his feet yelling, gesturing wildly with his hands.

The lady across from him was equally mad and gesturing.

"Escort me out?! I told you, I need to see someone about your computers and that I need to verify a registration number! How could I be anymore specific?!"

"And I told you, ma'am, that we have not purchased any computers nor are any of our computers for sale! So answer me, why do you need to see one of our computers?" yelled the man in response.

"Listen up, pal. My name is Abigail Scuito and I'm the forensic technician at NCIS. NCIS! That's a federal agency. Now, the reason I have to see someone about your computers is classified, but unless you want me to really get mad, then you will get me someone who can help!" Abby inched her face closer and closer to the man behind the desk. He took a step back, slightly alarmed at Abby's best attempt at a Gibbs glare.

"Excuse me, but what seems to be the problem here?" Came a curt and falsely polite voice from a door way in the back of the embassy.

"Officer Bashan, I have tried repeated to make this women to explain herself. She says she is NCIS." The clerk spoke the phrase NCIS with disbelief in his voice, hardly believing that the woman in front of him, dressed in black and red with huge platforms and dog collars could possibly work for a federal agency.

"Ah, NCIS. Then ma'am, you are a friend, no doubt?" Supplied Officer Bashan, his voice turned to true pleasantness, but his eyes displaying complete wariness.

"I need to verify a registration number on one of your computers. We just need to find out who was using it. It's connected to one of our cases. Now, before you jump the gun Officer, we don't think that any of your people are directly involved, but we just need to cover every angle. Now, I have the registration number. I just need to know who was using the computer three weeks ago." Abby spilled out rapidly, her previous anger forgotten in an attempt to get her information stated without being interrupted.

"Ms. Sciuto, I am sure I will be able to help you if you'll just follow me to my office. This way."

Officer Bashan gracefully ushered her away from the seething clerk and the small audience that had accumulated in the Embassy lobby.

The clerk's eyes got wide with indignation.

"But sir, she was totally..." he stopped speaking as he saw Bashan was ignoring him.

Inside of Bashan's office, he looked at Abby sternly.

"Miss Scuito, that was a brave stunt to pull in the offices of this embassy. You say your matter regards an NCIS case and that it is a possible mistake. I think you are lying. This something to do with the events of the past month with Officer David. Am I correct in assuming so?" Officer Bashan sat at his desk and apprised Abby with an inquisitive eye.

"Officer Bashan, Officer David is a friend. I don't think that whatever happened was right in any regard. I'm just trying to help a friend." replied Abby, her eyes pleading.

"Well, Ms. Scuito, Officer David is our mutual friend. I trust your integrity. I will be honest in saying that I cannot vouch as such for other Mossad officers. I will help you, but just this one time. Consider it a favor." smiled Bashan.

"A favor I am sure that I will have to repay someday," replied Abby, with a knowing smile of her own. Bashan merely shrugged and opened a program on his computer.

"If you please, the registration number?" Abby handed him a small piece of paper. He typed it into his computer and seemed surprised at the result.

"Well, Ms. Scuito, it appears as if Officer Amit Hadar was the only one who used this computer. A laptop actually."

"Hadar? But he's Ziva's current control officer. He's with her on the whole Rivkin mission. Oh my goodness!" Abby quickly gathered her bag and made for the door. Bashan stepped around his desk in time to meet her there.

"Is there anything else I can do Miss Scuito? Despite this obvious breach in protocol, Ziva is a friend that I would like very much to see safe and it seems she is not." The concern on Officer Bashan's face was sincere. Abby wrapped her hers around him. He was too stunned to respond.

"No, you've been a big help already Officer Bashan." Leaving him with a pat on the back, Abby rushed from his office, eager to get Gibbs the news.

Officer Bashan shook his head and returned to his desk. He knew that offering complete assistance to a United States federal agency without inquiry into the exact nature of her investigation was dangerous for himself. Should Eli David catch wind of it, Bashan was in serious trouble. But Bashan cared for Ziva's welfare. He always had. And aside from why he felt it was justified, he felt personally slighted by not being informed of Rivkin's mission in full upon his arrival in the states.


	14. Compensation

Ch. 14 Compensation

Ziva's mind no longer registered the giant hurt that her body had become. They'd moved her back into a chair with steel restraints after her last attempt at freedom. It was infinitely more uncomfortable than the floor was, but Ziva forced herself to ignore it. In reality the physical pain she was experiencing had finally been outweighed, but unfortunately it was by a much more devastating hurt. The pain of betrayal at the hands of her fellow officer, her friend, hurt much deeper than any blow ever would.

_The saying about words never hurting:it's wrong,_thought Ziva. She knew now, in her heart that that she'd been terribly mistaken about everything. Hadar had turned and that alone threw all of her previous judgments out the window. She was alone. To her dismay, the door to her prison opened. The sunlight from the outside hurt her eyes.

"Ziva, we have reached the end of another week." This time it was Hadar, not her previous tormentor to come through the door.

"So that makes a month, Hadar. A whole month that you have masked my capture from Mossad. I can barely contain my joy." spat Ziva, her voice hoarse.

Hadar simply strode up to Ziva and with one deft movement broke her index finger. Ziva cried out at the fresh wave of pain coursing through her poor hand.

"Ah, Ziva. You know, I admit: we picked the wrong Mossad officer to get information from. You are tough. Like your father and your brother."

"I am nothing like them." stated Ziva, glaring up at Hadar best she could. She thought of her father's naiveté in being unable to recognize a traitor so close to him. Thoughts of her brother's betrayal to Mossad and to her made bile rise in her stomach. She wanted nothing to do with that part of her relatives.

"Is that so, Zivaleh? How are you different from your father? He did not recognize me as the traitor that I am and you Ziva, you did not recognize dear Michael for the traitor he was." Hadar paused to let his words sink in. Ziva tried best she could to process the information, but her mind wanted to rebel. She began to shake her head in disbelief.

"Ziva, it is true. He was in America for two reasons: to go to a meeting with myself and Abin Tabel and to run a special favor that the Director promised your Director Vance. You, sorry, but you were a cover. He needed people to trust him, so he used you Ziva. Come now, you cannot deny that it is all becoming incredibly clear." Hadar smiled with mirth at the denial that was slowly turning to defeat in Ziva's face. She knew Hadar was speaking the truth. Rivkin "played" her, just as Tony said he would.

_God, Tony! _Thought Ziva, guilt shooting through her like lightening.

"Ziva, you have two options. Talk or die. I cannot wait any longer. I hate to be driven to this, but you have left me no choice. You see, you are the last piece of the puzzle. I think I owe you an explanation. You see, our mission is to tear down the US and Israeli friendship, because frankly, it is bad for business. You see it is a simple plan. For years, we have been infiltrating your US Navy with sleepers. Through much work, they all are at this moment aboard the _USS Ronald Reagan_. Your boyfriend's ship, no? Those sleepers will be activated. Today. They take hostage of the ship. Then, quite simply, they send a message claiming themselves to be a contingent of Israeli nationals. And, coincidentally they are. Then it will come out that the currently missing Mossad Officer Amit Hadar knew of the threat and did not report it. The United States gets angry with Mossad. Then, through the information we acquire from you, it gets out that Leon Vance is on a first term basis with the Director of Mossad and that his confused loyalties led to him being blinded to a real threat to the Navy. So, Mossad and NCIS fall. The two countries abolish relations and then, we have full range to attack to the United States and Israel." Hadar seemed to be enjoying the sound of his own voice, getting more and more excited as he spoke. Ziva cringed at the boarder line insanity that seemed to accompany his words.

"Hadar, it will not work. I will not talk." Ziva's voice was quiet, but resolute.

"Ziva, just tell me how Eli and Vance know each other and everything you know of their dealings since. That is all I need. Do not make this harder than it needs to be."

Ziva shook her head slightly but did not speak.

"Oh Ziva. You were the best of us, of myself, Michael, Ari. The most loyal to the cause. I only wish it was as easy for us to believe in Israel as you do. But it is already too late for us. And for you it seems. You will not talk, and so you choose death. In a way, I am happy for this. At least one of us will die with our honor intact." Hadar turned heal and left.

_No Hadar, _thought Ziva, _when you forsake your true friends, you have no honor. _For the first time during her captivity, Ziva let out a sob; not for the pain, but for the thought of knowing that she would die and never have a chance to make things right with her real friends, her family, at NCIS.


	15. Reassigned

Ch. 15 Reassigned

Tony fiddled with his thumbs nervously. It had taken then a half hour to get all of Abby's information from her and another hour to convince her that she could not come with them. She'd put up a significant fight, but in the end, Gibbs won out. But she wouldn't let them leave before giving them all a fierce hug and eliciting a promise of their safe return.

To Tony she added, "Don't even think of coming back here without Ziva, Tony." While hugging him, she whispered in his ear, "Just make sure she's safe." Tony nodded resolutely but could not find any words to say. Just before the team managed to exit the building for the air field, Leon Vance met them at the elevator, suitcase in hand.

"Leon, didn't know you cared enough to come," stated Gibbs, his voice hard as a concrete.

"Well, Gibbs, someone has to deal with the Israelis. Eli David thinks that his daughter is on a Mossad mission." replied Leon, a cocky smirk on his face.

"She is Leon. She's also on a NCIS mission. It's your fault this situation is so screwed up. Don't forget. You're going to Eli to play kiss ass." Gibbs was not in the mood to be diplomatic and all respect he'd held for Leon had evaporated after understanding the lengths at which he'd go to manipulate people.

"Well, Gibbs, I just can't take Ziva away from Mossad. Her father will have something to say about that, rest assured." Leon was about to enter the elevator when Gibbs spoke again.

"Leon, when we find her, she is coming back with us. I don't give a damn about her father and you know it."

And so now, Tony was fiddling with his thumbs in the jump seat of C-130 heading over the Atlantic. The trip was completely silent, no one willing so say anything that would get Gibbs or Vance angry. And so Tony was left with his thoughts.

_What do I say when I see her? Hey, Ziva how's it been hanging out with the terrorists? By the way, Everyone you thought you trusted, Rivkin, Hadar, your dad, turns out they're all lying bastards. Who would have known? I have no idea what to say. Maybe I won't get the chance, maybe she'll shoot me on sight. _

Tony tiredly ran his hands over his eyes. Then plan was to drop Gibbs and company off in Somalia to recon with a Navy SEALs team. Vance would continue to Israel. Tony knew exactly what would happen. Vance would threaten to exploit Mossad's rouge agent issues if Eli did not release his daughter of her ties to Mossad. Ziva would be free to stay in the United States, but those who hurt her would never get the punishment owed them. Tony shook his head at the crookedness of the situation. Those who'd pledged themselves to law and order would have to betray their duty to their countries for personal gain.

Six hours later, Gibbs, Tony, McGee and six Navy SEALs were in a chopper heading towards Ziva's coordinates. Gibbs' face betrayed no emotion. McGee was obviously worried. Tony had a look of determination.

Gibbs was thinking of the possibility of success. He shared any of his anxieties with his team; his job was to bolster confidence. Yet he could not erase his apprehension. He wanted so badly to reach Ziva. To save her. He hadn't had the chance to save Shannon and Kelly. Now that he had the chance to save Ziva, we refused to pass it up. She _was _his daughter. _Screw Vance and his politics,_thought Gibbs.

McGee was the most nervous he had ever been in his life. Though no one ever mentioned it, he was sure that Ziva would be in a rough shape. He just didn't know how he was going to react. Ziva had always been this super soldier to him. He didn't know if he would be able to handle seeing her broken.

Tony held onto his AK- 47 like a life line. It was the one thing at that moment that felt truly real. He knew what the assault rifle meant; it meant he had a fight chance at reaching Ziva. It was a chance he clung to. He _had _to reach her, to tell her he was sorry and that he was jealous. He saw the rifle as his last shot at fixing things between him and Ziva.

Suddenly Gibbs radio came to life and the voice of NCIS director Leon Vance crackled over the frequency.

"_Vance to Gibbs, over."_

"Gibbs here, over," replied Gibbs.

"_Gibbs, we have a situation on the USS Ronald Reagan. The crew has been taken hostage by sleepers on board. I am ordering you and your SEALs to change course and get to that carrier, over?"_

"Are you kidding me director? What about Officer David, over." Gibbs voice was laced anger as he shouted into the radio.

"_Gibbs, this is a matter of national security. A carrier is in the hands of terrorists. It takes priority over Officer David. I am ordering you and your team to go to that carrier."_

"Ten-four, Director Vance." Stated Gibbs, shutting off the radio.

"Pilot," said Gibbs getting the man's attention, "We are changing course to the _USS Ronald Reagan._ Radio in for its coordinates. However, keep track until we reach our first destination. Then we change course." The pilot nodded his assent and Gibbs turned to look at his team. He took a deep breath and looked Tony in the eye.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. You are temporarily reassigned; you're not on my team."


	16. Army of One

A/N: First of all, thank you all so much for the reviews and story favorites and such. Makes it easier to write when you know people want to read what happens next. Be warned, the next couple of chapters are a little Tiva intensive. But, have no fear, for we will get back to the whole team and the overall plot. Hope you all enjoy.

Ch. 16 Army of One

"Excuse me?" Tony was aghast, sure he'd misheard Gibbs.

"You heard me just fine DiNozzo. You're off my team until further notice." Gibbs turned to talk with one of the SEALs to discuss where they would get a boat to reach the USS_ Ronald Reagan. _Tony blinked his eyes several times and shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"But, Boss? Did I do something wrong? You've lost me here?"

"Tony, are you really that dense?!" This time it was McGee who spoke up, his face radiating disbelief at Tony's naiveté.

"Hey, Probie, you'll forgive me if I'm a little upset at the moment!" Yelled Tony at McGee.

"Will you both just shut up!" shouted Gibbs. "Tony, my team has to go solve a hostage situation on a Navy carrier. If you're on my team, then I and Director Vance, would expect your complete cooperation. However, there's an agent in the field who needs her partner's help. I intend to see that she gets it. Got it?!" Gibbs icy blue eyes bore into Tony's green ones, forcing the younger man to avert his eyes.

"Got it, Boss," replied Tony appropriately cowed.

Gibbs nodded his head and went back to drawing up a plan with the Navy SEAL.

A half hour later, the helicopter descended into the dry land of Northern Somalia. One of the SEALs spoke with Tony before letting him off.

"Listen up. There is not much cover as you can see. It's shrub land. We've dropped you one mile away. We'll give you some time to start making your way over. We will pass overhead. Gunnery Sergent Gibbs here is going to break loose some of his sniping skills. We will take out the perimeter guards and tower guards. You have to move fast DiNozzo. They're only going to hear the chopper and by the time they realize their guards are dead you need to be in the compound. And that's as far as we go." Tony nodded, his mouth too dry to speak. Gibbs grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye.

"DiNozzo. This camp is right outside the city of Erigavo. Get Ziva and get to Erivago. Then get yourselves to Heis. It's a city on the coast of Aden. Erivago is too close for us to come in for a pick up. We have an undercover agent in Heis who I trust. He'll keep the two of you safe until we come for a pick up. This is his address." Gibbs handed Tony a hastily scrawled slip of paper. Tony looked at it, committing it to memory, then placed it deep inside one of his pockets. When Tony looked up again, Gibbs eyes had softened. "Tony, be safe. Think before you move. I want the both of you home safely. Both of you." Gibbs gave Tony a nod and a squeeze on the shoulder. Tony nodded his head a couple of times. He gave McGee a small grin and without looking back again, got off the helicopter, making his way towards to the camp. To Ziva.

Tony covered the ground easily. His weeks of intense physical training were paying off as he ate up the distance between himself and the compound easily. He had a quarter of a mile left when the chopper came up roaring behind him. As he approached he could hear the yelling and the gunfire as Gibbs and undoubtedly the SEALs took out the guards. Tony reached the camp just as the helicopter took off. Making it into the camp was not difficult as the initial resistance had been cut down, however, inside the camp there was chaos. It seemed that the mere presence of the helicopter had sent ripples of disturbance through the camp. Men were running everywhere, shouting orders. The camp was not huge, solidifying Tony's suspicions that the camps' main efforts were extremely clandestine. The camp was comprised of small building structures. Tony assumed that they were primarily for barracks, mess hall, storage, headquarters and most important to Tony, holding cells. Using the buildings as cover, Tony made his way through the camp. He let his assault rifle hang by the strap and kept his silenced Sig Sauer in his hands. He didn't hesitate to shoot when men came across his path. His mission was Ziva and he was sure that these men would get in his way. Just as Tony was about to run a short sprint from the cover of one building to the cover of another, a man appeared around the corner. He was too close to Tony for Tony to get a shot off. Instead, Tony grabbed and yanked him forward, ensuring that his knee found its way into the man's gut. The man was winded, but taking no chances, Tony slammed him into the wall behind him and struck the man's throat, effectively crushing the windpipe. The man dropped to the ground fighting to take a breath. Tony held the man by his shirt and and looked the man in the eye.

The look in Tony's eyes terrified the dying man. He'd never seen a man with so much fire in his eyes. The light-hearted Tony was gone, temporarily replaced by a Tony with one thought: Ziva.

"Where is Amit Hadar?" growled Tony, his voice low to avoid detection. The camp was still busy, but it's occupants were otherwise too occupied to notice the dead bodies in the camp or to think that they were not casualties wrought of the helicopter flying overhead. The man's eyes bulged at the lack of oxygen.

"Which way?" demanded Tony. The man raised a shaky finger a pointed to the west side of the camp. Tony let him drop and turned to look in the direction he'd indicated. Off in the distance was a small building, a large hut type structure, and the unmistakable figure of Amit Hadar entering it.


	17. Rough Trip Part1

Ch. 17 Rough Trip Part 1

For the first time since find out about Hadar's betrayal, Ziva began to hope again. The sound of the helicopter with it's gunshots and the yelling among the men that ensued meant that an unwelcome someone had found the location of the camp. _The enemy of my enemy is my friend,_thought Ziva grimly. She took the sound as good news, but it could have easily been bad news. There were plenty of those in the world that would hunt terrorists, but not all of those would be friendly towards an Israeli. About twenty minutes after the helicopter was not heard, the door to her prison opened. Sunlight streamed in, making Ziva look down. Even squinting irritated the bruising on her face. The relief from the sunlight was short lived when the intruder forced her face up by her jaw. Hadar face radiated hate, but his voice remained light and sarcastic.

"Well Ziva, it looks as though your usefulness has come to an end. We're taking a trip and really there's no room for a disgruntled Mossad officer." He took a few steps back and aimed a Jericho compact pistol. It was always the back up gun assigned to Mossad officers. Ziva simply stared into his face. She had no words left for the man.

"Consider this a better end to what I could let you have." The sound of a gunshot rang through the air and pain exploded in Ziva's side, causing her to cry out in pain. Her ears rang and tears welled her eyes, but she blinked them off to look down at herself. The bullet from Hadar's gun hit her on her right side, above the hip, grazing her flesh. As hearing began to return she looked forward to see the cause of Hadar's miss. Her eyes widened with disbelief.

On the ground, unconscious, was Amit Hadar. It looked as though his head had men smacked on the hard floor of the prison. On top of him, his knee on Hadar's back, his right hand removing the gun from Hadar's right hand was Tony DiNozzo.

"Tony?" Ziva's voice was a whisper, as if she were afraid that if she spoke to loud , he would suddenly disappear and she would wake up from a dream.

Silently Tony rose to his feet and went to Ziva. As gently as he could manage, he placed his hands on either side Ziva's face and looked her in the eyes.

"I was jealous, Ziva." He said with a small smile. Abruptly he turned back to Hadar and searched the man's pocket's for keys. Finding them, he went and unlocked the chains holding her to the chair. Stiffly, she moved her arms, wincing at the movement of her side.

Silently Tony pulled her out the chair onto the floor. He pulled a bag off his back and began to rummage through it. He pulled out a bottle of antiseptic, gauze, and bandaging. Gently, he cut away the cloth surrounding Ziva's gunshot wound. She prevented herself from crying out, but silent tears poured from her eyes. She did his as the antiseptic his the wound, but tried her best to keep still. Tony mumbled an apology and kept working. Finally he cleaned out the wound and bandaged it up.

"Ziva, I hate to ask, but can you walk?" Tony's eyes flooded with various different emotions, but Ziva could really see how sorry he was to ask.

"I can walk, but I will need you help." replied Ziva, her voice raspy. Tony pulled out a water bottle and handed it to her. Ziva drunk gratefully. Tony put it back in his bag when she was done. He stood and reached down to help her stand as well. She winced with the effort, but managed to stand to her feet without falling over. Tony held out an extra handgun with a silencer already attached. She took it in her right hand with a nod.

Hadar was starting to stir as they left the the room and in response, Tony placed a well aimed kick to his head.

"We should shot the bastard here." spat Ziva, venom in her voice.

"Ziva, my job is to get you out. And we have to go now. This is not the time to exact your revenge." Tony's calm voice made sense and it calmed her against her will. With difficulty she turned away from Hadar.

Together, Tony and Ziva fought their way through the camp. They met plenty of opposition, which was taken care of swiftly and mostly by Tony. Their luck ran out when the alarm was sounded.

"Ziva, stay close to me." Tony pulled a grenade off his belt, pulled the pin and lobbed it to one side of the camp. Another grenade quickly followed to the other side of the camp. The explosions were enough to cause mass confusion. Tony used it to make it through the camp, Ziva close behind. Disposing of his empty Sig, Tony used the assault rifle on anyone who got in his way.

Finally, they reached the entrance.

"Ziva, run as fast as you can manage. I'll catch up with you. Go!" He yelled when she hadn't moved. Tony noted with pain that Ziva's run had been reduced to a limped jog. Turning back a around he fired blindly at the men coming at him. After stopping the majority. He pulled his bag off and took out two Claymores, both fastened on the same trip wire. As gently as possible, he unrolled the cords and placed them on opposite sides of the gates. Then, even more gently, he pulled the pins and ran to catch up with Ziva.

Ziva was already exhausted when Tony caught up with her.

"Tony, what was--" Ziva was cut off by an explosion at the camp. She looked from the camp to Tony, with a little bit of awe in her eyes. Tony shrugged.

"We need to keep moving and put as much distance between ourselves and here as possible. There should be some more tree cover as we go." They set off in silence, Tony totally in tune to the sounds around them and Ziva simply trying to keep moving. Finally she couldn't.

"Tony." Tony kept moving, not realizing Ziva had spoken. "DiNozzo," she called louder. Finally, Tony seemed to hear and spun around. He just managed to catch Ziva as her legs gave out.

"God, Ziva, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot." He said as he eased her to the ground. Lightly, Ziva tapped his shoulder.

"Not your fault," she mumbled, her eyes growing heavy. Before he could respond, her eyes closed as she passed out into sleep.


	18. Rough Trip Part 2

Ch. 18 Rough Trip Part 2

Ziva awoke to the sound of water, gently flowing on the edge of her consciousness and the small of wood burning. Slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking. She then realized two things: it was nighttime and she hurt all over. With a groan, she weakly tried to sit up, finding the task incredibly difficult. Then she felt a hand on her back and she instantly tensed up. The voice that spoke was gentle.

"Easy. I'm just gonna help you sit up." Her muscles relaxed as Tony helped pull her up against a tree. She leaned her head back with a wince and a sigh.

"Here," said Tony handing her three pills. She took them and the waster he offered and swallowed them without question. That clued Tony into how much discomfort she was actually in. Normally, she would have fought him like a bear.

"Sorry they're just regular pain killers. Extra strength, but over the counter. They probably won't do much, but for now it'll have to do." Tony spoke without actually meeting Ziva's eyes.

In truth, he was nervous about her response to him being there. He knew that it was irrational, but he couldn't help it. He'd longed so badly to see Ziva again, but now that he did he didn't know what to do. She was obviously badly hurt and he would do his best to take care of her, but one thought plagued him: _What if she doesn't want me here?_

Ziva could sense Tony's discomfort and was unsure of what to do. He had made a huge statement back at the camp, but was he willing to follow up on it Ziva wondered.

"I, uh, better check that gunshot wound. And, um, I suppose anything else that needs looking at?" Stated Tony abruptly. His cheeks reddened at the awkwardness of his statement. Ziva couldn't help it. She let out a bark of laughter that almost instantly turned into a wince. Tony looked at her face and couldn't help but grin a little when she gave him a tiny smile. He pulled his bag to him and started pulling out first aid equipment.

"Tony, you make me think of Mary Boppins with that bag of yours," she remarked with an impressed look on her face.

"It's Mary Poppins and when you get back to DC, you have one Ms. Abigail Scuito to thank for that. She packed this baby with everything I might need, some stuff I might not and plenty of space for weapons and ammo. Even the SEAL who checked the bag couldn't find fault with it."

"SEAL?"

"Uh, yeah. Vance got your call. He sent the whole team. Actually, how about this. I'll let you take a quick wash in the river right there, and while I patch you up, I'll tell you the story. Ziva, nodded but was wondering how in the world she was going to manage washing without drowning in the river.

"Tony, I am going to have difficulty, um..."

"Standing?" supplied Tony.

"Yes, standing." finished Ziva.

"You can hold on to my arm? With, of course, my attention fixed on something other than you. At least then." Ziva smiled again. Tony bent over and helped pull Ziva to her feet. Slowly, with Ziva leaning heavily on him, Tony walked Ziva to the river. He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his pants, wading into the shallow water on the shore. He averted his eyes as Ziva pulled off her pants.

"Tony, you have other cloths I can wear, yes?"

"Yeah," he replied.

"Then give me your knife. I cannot lift my arms enough to get this shirt off." Wordlessly, Tony unsheathed a knife and handed it by the hilt to Ziva. He heard a ripping sound and felt the knife slip back into his outstretched hand. Then he felt a warm hand grasp onto his wrist, followed by the sound of slashing water. He did his best to move as Ziva did, keep her steady.

"Tony, your knife?" Tony was a bout to put it out when he withdrew his hand.

"Why do you need it again?" he asked his closed eyes looking in the direction of Ziva's voice.

"My hair is too long, Tony. It needs a trim. Please?" Tony handed her the knife and felt the grip on his wrist released. He fought the urge to reach forward and grab her hand again, missing the warmth that it carried. After a few moments she handed his the knife back along with the soap and cloth he'd given her to wash. He sheathed the knife and tossed the soap and cloth to the shore. Eyes still sealed, Tony helped Ziva back to the shore. Her grip on his arm was much harder indicating the tender frailty of her strength and the fatigue that a simple washing induced.

He grabbed a bundle of clothing and handed it to Ziva.

"Again, Abby to thank."

He kept his back to her and his eyes sealed until a soft rested on his shoulder. He turned to look at Ziva. She was in a pair of brown, baggy cargos that seemed to be able to unzip in sections, enabling them to change length, should the wearer choose. For a top, Abby provided a slightly over-sized bottom down white shirt. It was a soft light cotton that flowed slightly in the gentle breeze.

Tony pulled her arm over his shoulders and helped her back to the tree.

"Hold on," said Tony. He placed his bag on the ground and pulled out a blanket and laid it on the hard ground.

"It might be better if you lay back a little," suggested Tony. Rather than argue, Ziva, with Tony's help eased herself to the ground, gently laying her back against the backpack.

"You're gonna have to, you know," gestured Tony, his face slightly red again. Again, Ziva smiled at his awkwardness and undid the buttons of her shirt. What she didn't expect was an exclamation from Tony.

"Holy Hell, Ziva! What did they do to you?" Tony's eyes flashed anger and grief for his friend. Ziva took a glance down and grimaced. Her entire torso was covered in dark bruises. There were also cuts from the knife.

"We at Mossad call it interrogation Tony." replied Ziva, a smirk gracing her features.

"Yeah, well we at NCIS call it torture." Tony pulled the old bandage off and inspected the gunshot wound. It was more a deep graze than anything else. He took out more disinfectant and a needle and thread. As his hand went forward to clean the wound, Ziva's hand grabbed it, not allowing him to come in contact with her.

"Tony, before you help me any further, we have to talk." Ziva's throat was dry, but this time not from a lack of water.

"Ziva, you are really banged up. Can we talk later?"

"No. I will not allow you to help me if you do not let me talk." Tony sighed with exasperation and let himself plop on the floor. Part of him was relieved to see some of the old Ziva stubbornness shining through the voice of his very tired Israeli friend.

Ziva took a deep breath before speaking, willing her voice not to quiver.

"Tony, I have been unfair to you. I- I was angry at you. But that was no excuse to treat you like a traitor. I was the one blinded by my hope in Michael and my father. I should have known better than to throw my life back into my father's hands or even to trust Vance. None of this would have happened if I had listened to you in the first place and gotten Michael to leave. The fact is I did this to myself and you were not responsible for any of it, no matter how I made it seem." Tony looked ready to interrupt, but, though it was painful, Ziva tightened her grip on his wrist.

"Tony, I betrayed you. And Gibbs. All because I wanted to believe in a father who I have never truly trusted. You saved my life, Tony. I can never truly thank you. I know you had orders to come. If-if you do not choose to forgive me, I- I understand." By this point, Ziva had a slow line of tears running down her face and she let Tony's hand drop, no longer able to support it.. She stubbornly kept her eyes down, away from Tony and so she missed the look of relief that graced his features.

Ziva didn't move again until she felt the sting of the disinfectant on her side. She looked up at Tony, who wore a small grin as he worked.

"What, Tony?" asked Ziva sharply. His smile irritated her, but not in a way that was unwelcome. In fact she did welcome it, reveling in the feeling of normalcy.

"I was terrified to come get you. I thought that you wouldn't want me here after everything that happened in Tel Aviv. This is gonna hurt, by the way." replied Tony in a quiet voice. Ziva left off answering as Tony began to stitch up her bullet wound. Her tears were ones of pain as she clenched her jaw in a n effort not to cry out and held onto Tony's shirt, twisting it in a white knuckled fist as an outlet for the pain. After a few moments, Ziva felt Tony's gentle hands applying new bandages, taping them in place as to not cover any other wounds that needed attending. After caring for the bullet wound, Tony worked on the other cuts on her torso ans well as feeling around for crack or broken ribs.

"It wasn't just me you know. WE were all gonna come, but um, our dear Director Vance sent team Gibbs to deal with a hostage situation on the _Ronald Reagan. _I'm currently not on team Gibbs if you're wondering. We were gonna swoop in with a team of Navy SEALs too. Would have been cool, to give those terrorists what they really deserve." remarked Tony as he worked.

"So Gibbs does not hate me?" whispered Ziva in question.

"No, sweet cheeks, he doesn't. He gave Vance a busted lip when he found out how involved he was in everything." Ziva smiled at that.

Ziva then turned her attention to the hand that had been broken. She'd done her best back in her cell to make sure that the fingers were as straight as possible, but she hadn't had the time or ability to reset the one Hadar had broken.

"Zee, did they...break your fingers?" Tony asked, disbelief lacing his voice. Ziva could tell that the disbelief was borne of the fact he couldn't believe that human could do so much harm to another human.

"They did. Some were not so bad. This one happened yesterday and I could not fix it then."

"You know I'm gonna have to set it, right?" Tony was not looking forward to the task. Ziva simply nodded. Tony gently took her hand, noting it's swelling and dark bruises.

"One, two, three," he counted. After three, he moved the finger back into place, causing Ziva to scream and let forth a fresh wave of tears. Unable to lie down, she sat up, and buried her face in Tony's shoulder, her good hand again wenching and his shirt. Tony held her and took the opportunity to pull up the back of her shirt and find out what injuries lay there. He swore when he saw more cuts and bruises. Some of the cuts were long and deep. He did his best to clean them out and bandage them up. Finally he eased Ziva back.

His eyes shone with concern when he looked at her.

"You okay?" he asked, mentally kicking himself, knowing that the chances of her being okay were slim to none.

Ziva let out a small chuckle, knowing the conflict that played out in Tony's mind.

"I am better now than I have been in months, Tony." she replied, hoping to reassure him. He did offer a lopsided grin and stood to his feet. From somewhere in his small camp he produced his jacket and another blanket.

"It's gonna be a long day tomorrow, so I think sleep is in order." he balled his jacket up into a make shift pillow and lay the blanket on the ground.

"Tony," Ziva paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Tony, do you think that maybe...It's just that--" Tony didn't wait for her to finish when he moved his "pillow" next to Ziva. And settled himself on the edge of her blanket. Gently as to not jar her, Tony pulled Ziva to himself until her back was to his chest, her head resting on his arm and his arm wrapped around her protectively.

"Thank you for coming for me Tony." she whispered. This time she felt rather than saw Tony's smile of relief.

"Thanks for letting me be the one to save you."

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this installment. I know there's a lot of talk about what Ziva is going to be like after she gets saved, but as I am am the author of this particular story, I've decided that Ziva needs to trust Tony since they both know that Rivkin was truly a jerk. I dunno, that's just me. More later. Have a great day!


	19. Silver Fox

A/N: Hello friends. In addition to thank everyone for their continued support( thank you!!!), I find myself in the position to offer an apology. First, sorry this took so long to come out. It was a very hard chapter for me to write. Second, I'm sorry that I'm only posting one chapter. I know that I've been doing a two or three per update deal, but I couldn't manage it this time. I did however try to make this chapter extra long as a form of compensation.

I honestly don't know if I like how this chapter turned out. If you like, great. If not, do not lose faith. I'm confident the story will pick up in excitement and momentum from here on out.

I hope that everyone is doing well.

Ch. 19 Silver Fox

"McGee, if you cannot hold yourself together, I will throw you off this boat with my own two hands!" Shouted Gibbs over the sound of the speed boats engine. They were coming up on the _Ronald Reagan _in about five minutes. McGee was having difficulty with keeping the green out of his face.

"Yes, Boss," he replied, his voice sounding like a strong moan. Not for the first time, his mind wandered to thinking about Tony and Ziva. He hoped more than anything that they were safe. Tony never said it out loud, but McGee knew that his care for Ziva ran deep. Something else McGee would have liked would have been to be on dry, solid land. The speed boat did nothing to quell his nerves. He silently cursed Vance, Hadar and the whole group of Somalian terrorists that were responsible for his being on the boat with Gibbs and their six SEALs. McGee would never say as much to Gibbs out loud, but he felt that eight men taking back a whole carrier was nothing short of insane.

Gibbs, unbeknown to McGee, was thinking along the same lines. Gibbs wanted to kill Vance for assigning such a ludicrous mission. They made up a relatively quick plan on the way from Africa to Israel where they got the boat. Vance gave a quick nod of approval on the plan and sent them on their way.

The plan, as Gibbs loosely thought of it, was to infiltrate the boat through the torpedo bay. One of the SEALs with them had once worked on the Reagan and was an engineer assigned to the torpedo bay. Luckily, he knew how to get in without alerting any security.

Based on the transmission sent to NCIS that was then wired to Vance in Israel, there were about one hundred men on board who were sleepers, activated to take the ship hostage. It was a small percentage compared to the number on personnel on the _Reagan _, but it was enough to take the main parts of the ship captive. They were certain that already, sailors had been killed and that more would continue to die. What was most alarming was that they had released no information as to what they wanted. They'd simply taken the ship.

"We drop in ten seconds!" Shouted a SEAL. Grabbing there individual propelling devices, the team got ready to deploy. The boat driver held up a hand and began a countdown. When all of his fingers went down, the team went over the edge of the boat and dropped into the water.

They allowed themselves to sink deeper before turning on the propellers and flashlights. After a time of swimming and tense waiting, there SEAL with the knowledge of the torpedo bay had the hatch opened. Using hand signals, it was determined that he was to go first followed by the five other SEALs and then Gibbs and McGee. Releasing their individual propellers, the team infiltrated the _USS Ronald Reagan._

Slowly, they made there way inside the boat. To their immense luck, the torpedo launch was empty. They pulled themselves through the narrow opening and as they got through, each SEAL took a defensive position, securing the room. Again, as though fate had a smile on his roguish face, there were no terrorists in the torpedo bay. When Gibbs got through, he indicated through hand signals that the door be closed. The sailors working down there complied wordlessly.

"Alright, listen up!" Gibbs voice carried to all of the men in the room. "As I'm sure you guessed, these are SEALs. I'm Special Agent Gibbs and this is Special Agent McGee. We're NCIS and we're here to take back the ship. I want a run down: what are these terrorist SOBs up to?" A confident looking man stepped forward. He was small and wiry. He squared his shoulders before he spoke.

"Ensign Jay Taylor, sir. In the last thirty six hours, the terrorists have either killed or taken hostage our the higher ranks of this ship. The Chief of the Boat is dead, as is our communications officer. The entire command center is guarded. The Skipper is alive to make everything seem normal, sir. They're holding anyone higher than Ensign under guard. They are confining us to barracks and our stations. We're not permitted anywhere else. Our orders are to continue as usual."

"Boss, we can take them. They don't know we're here." whispered McGee fiercely.

"There's something else though, Agent McGee. They've got the whole ship wired to explode. Completely. That's why there's so many thousands of us _not _rebelling. They're prepared to blow us kingdom come. And all with a dead man switch." Gibbs swore silently.

_Explosives. Why is it always explosives. They make everything so damn complicated. You make one wrong move, Jethro, and these men are history._

"Can we spread word to the rest of the crew without alerting our stowaways of our presence?" Gibbs asked.

"We're communicating through simple hand signals, sir."

"Good. I want you to let them know that we're here and to be ready. We're gonna get started on that bomb. The plan is to corner these bastards. Herd them to where we can control them. We need to make their time on the _USS Ronald Reagan _miserable. With only about one hundred of them, they can't possibly be ready to man this ship on their own. We need to use that knowledge against them. We need to move as rapidly as possible and our first strike will be the most important."

"Where are we hitting first, sir?" questioned Ensign Taylor.

"An army marches on its stomach, Ensign. Alert the kitchen staff that whatever is served to our guests in the next twenty four hours is not to reach their usual standard of safety."

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"Report!" barked Gibbs three hours later. Breakfast had been served an hour ago.

"Sir, Petty Officer Third Class Randell Sells, sir. I'm in charge of the kitchen sir. We took the liberty of collaborating with the medical staff in order to acquire laxatives, sir. The desired effects have been attained, sir."

"Excellent. Ensign Taylor?"

"Yes, sir?" Gibbs had decided to make the base of operations the torpedo bay. He kept two SEALs and McGee with him. The other four were slowly disarming the bombs and watching for any enemy movement. According to the sailors, the traitors had changed into black and white fatigues.

"I need to a message relayed to the janitorial staff. When the bastards are occupied, they need to collect their weapons. This needs to be done subtly. I don't doubt that this crew is full of fine sailors, but those guns need to be given to your strongest, fastest and best fighters. Kitchen staff needs to continue with tampering the food for lunch. Now, how to they get dinner in command?"

"Two of the kitchen staff bring a cart up, sir. A different pair every time." replied Petty Officer Sells.

"Good. Then we're going to need uniform that fits me. Hopefully by dinner, that dead man switch will be ineffective. As you can see, the chance of us diffusing the entire boat impossible. We are however, ensuring that all locations necessary for the ship to continue to run are safe. We move at 1900 hours. At that time, every single crew member _must be on deck. _McGee will be in charge of keeping the crew organized as they get on deck. You crewmen, make sure McGee gets everyone's respect._" _The men in the room nodded solemnly. They knew the risk of the explosives was very real.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Report," barked Gibbs for the second time that day. It was 1830 hours and he and McGee were dressed to bring command dinner.

"We ran into some trouble Agent Gibbs. The men were getting suspicious. We had to knock most of the ones on bathroom breaks out cold. They're bound and gagged in storage. We're going to need to move fast before command is alerted."

"Ensign Taylor, you're with me. I want my SEAL team as a guard. SEALs: do not hesitate to kill. They're terrorists. Our first priority is the safety of the crew. Second is questioning. Sells, I want men assigned to monitor the captured bastards. Make sure that they stay alive. When we've taken command, we will alert the ship of the change of command. Only them can they incapacitate the rest of these jerks. Let's move!" The men instantly scurried to action. Gibbs dawned a seaman's cap and exited the room surrounded by Navy SEALs. The opposition they met was minimal and quickly dwelt with.

"What was disarmed?" Gibbs asked, pushing the cart of food.

"All the engines are clear sir, as are all the piping and weapons storage. Conveniently, they're operating on a short range wireless frequency. We've managed to jam that signal without setting off the bombs. With any luck, if that switch goes off, nothing will happen. But, sir, if we're wrong, if we've screwed up, then we'll be blasted to kingdom come. I've never seem so much C-4." Gibbs nodded somberly and continued at his brisk pace.

"No worries," he said to the troubled looking man who had just delivered the report. The man looked up at Gibbs, a question in his eyes. Gibbs smirked. "I haven't given anyone permission to die."

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McGee was sweating bullets and wringing his hands together. He paced the confines of the torpedo bay nervously, cursing Gibbs for the hundredth time for leaving him in charge.

_Why would he do this? I'm the Probie, not the senior field agent. Tony should be here, not me. Oh, great, McGee, now look what you're doing: accusing Tony of running out on you while he's off saving one of our very best friends from capture and torture. That's just great, McGee, be the selfish one. I'm not gonna be able to do this. Thousands of people looking at me for leadership! Gibbs must finally be going crazy._

"Uh, sir? Agent McGee?" McGee's head snapped up. Petty Officer Sells had addressed McGee. In many ways the two men looked alike. Sells face had more angles than McGee's, but both had short cropped blond hair, clear gray eyes and the look of men forever caught in eternal youth.

"Yes, um. Has word been sent to the crew?" McGee asked, trying to inflect a confidence in his voice that he didn't feel.

"Yes sir. They're ready to move as soon as Gibbs gives the signal. Is there anything else we can do while we wait sir?" McGee racked his brain for things to do. Then suddenly a sickening thought occurred to him.

"Sells, are there any wounded on board?"

"Yes, sir. They're under guard. I'd say about 40 men."

"Then they're going to need help getting to the deck. I want to you to find them now. Take men with you. Gibbs has been gone for fifteen minutes. Knowing Gibbs, that signal will be out within the next five. We need to move those crew members now." Sells gave a quick nod and barked an order. He took half of the remaining men from the torpedo bay. The rest turned to look at McGee. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, McGee spoke loudly to the room.

"Let's move out now."

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When Gibbs entered command, time seemed to freeze. There were twelve men in the room. Seven were Navy. The other five were the terrorists. What concerned Gibbs the most was the one sitting in the command chair with a vest of explosives strapped to his torso. He seemed to be starring at a video camera and was speaking a heavily accented English which he stopped when he realized there was a disruption in the room. His face grew angry.

"How dare you come in here when direct orders said you were to wait until an hour later. Jared, why did you let them in? Jared!" he shouted when there was no response. Gibbs smirked.

"Are you talking about your guard at the door? I think he might be a little incapacitated."

The man's eyes bulged at Gibbs' cool confidence.

"How dare you?" Gibbs pulled his service weapon from the cart of food. The other terrorists in the room instantly tensed, their guns up and pointed at Gibbs.

"NCIS. Lower your weapons. _Now." _Gibbs' voice wasn't loud, but was loaded with authority. The men with the guns held there stance while the original man speaking sported a grin.

"NCIS, huh? How convenient. You have come to clean up your mess. Let me guess, Director Vance and Director David have sent you. How very fitting."

"Drop your weapons now. Do not force me to kill you." At his words the Navy SEALs filtered into the room, three on each side, flanking Gibbs their rifles at the ready. Now, outnumbered, the terrorists became nervous, shifting on their feet uncomfortably, looking at one another.

"Agent Gibbs. I'm sorry you came all this way to die." He gave a curt nod and the room was filled with the sound of shouting and gunfire. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the fighting stopped. An eerie silence filled the room.

For a moment, Gibbs was still, silently assessing any possible wounds. He allowed himself a small breath of relief when there were none. Cautiously, he stood up. He saw that like him, other men were standing up and to his dismay, others were not. Two of his SEALs were down and it was evident that they'd never stand again. All of the terrorists were down. When he walked up to the apparent leader, he noted with apparent disgust that the dead man switch was a fake as was the bomb strapped to him.

_Coward..._ Gibbs thought mildly. He strode over to the PA system anyway and gave the signal for the crew to move to the deck. Just because the leader was a coward didn't mean the rest of the explosives weren't real.

"Skipper, the command is yours." stated Gibbs, his voice neutral. He would not allow his voice to reflect the grief he felt over losing the two SEALs.

"Thank you, Gibbs." The skipper sent a message out over the PA system announcing the neutralization of the threat. He then addressed on of the men in the command center. "Petty Officer Lancaster!"

"Yes, sir," responded a man sitting at a console.

"Relay an emergency signal. We need a ship to evacuate to. Tell them we have wounded. I know that the _Eisenhower _is not far. Call to them first." The skipper squinted out at the deck of the ship.

"Gibbs, is that one of your men?" Gibbs looked out the window and let out a bark of laughter. McGee, standing on an overturned crate from bellow was shouting orders into a megaphone and to Gibbs' amusement and the Skipper's surprise, the crew of the _USS Ronald Reagan _were following his orders.

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"Form you lines, let's go! Wounded up front! Get everyone on deck! _Move quickly. _Just because they won't go off at the flip of a switch doesn't mean those bombs won't go off at all."

"You done, McGee?" McGee almost dropped the megaphone at the sound of Gibbs' voice.

"Easy there. You did good McGee." McGee let out a huge smile and a breath of relief. Gibbs was silent for a moment, staring out at the assembling crew. McGee broke the silence.

"Boss. You think that we can get back to Somalia before Vance gets any other ideas?"

Gibbs smirked in casual Gibbs fashion and looked up at McGee.

"Yeah, McGee. Let's go find our agents.


	20. What Happened to You Part 1

A/N: Here's the next two chapters. Thanks for the reviews and story alerts and all that fun stuff.

Ch. 20 What Happened to You: Part 1

Tony and Ziva were slowly marching through the shrub land. Despite Ziva's protest, Tony had pulled her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his other arm around her waist, leaving her left arm in a sling to protect her hand. To fill the time Tony was telling her stories of his days in the Baltimore PD. Ziva would never say as much out loud, but she appreciated his effort to distract her from her pain. To a degree she even enjoyed his stories.

"You cannot be serious Tony. A vat of glue?"

"Yes, I am totally serious. He had some sort of automatic weapon. What else was a first year cop supposed to do but get out of the way?"

"I do not know, shoot back?" replied Ziva, her voice carrying a a slight teasing tone over the pain in her voice. Tony had learned early on in the morning that the underlaying sound of pain wasn't going to go away without a trip to the hospital and some strong pain killers. Both of which she'd have to wait for.

"I did shoot back. My clip emptied. Some things _are_ inevitable, Ziva." Ziva gave a small smile at Tony's words and looked up at him.

"I suppose they are, Tony." Tony gave a brief smile in return and then looked away.

"Anyway, it took me weeks to get every bit of glue off my skin and out of my hair. I got called Captain Sticky for months after that." Ziva smiled as a form of laughter, knowing laughing out right would aggravate her many wounds.

"It's about noon. How about we stop for a breather and some food? Map says there's a creek, river like body of water not too far." Ziva nodded, inwardly grateful for a chance to sit down. Tony helped her sit on a rock by the river's edge. The portion of the river they'd chosen to stop at had large rocks and boulders all around, forming small shelters and a little bit protection from the main road.

Tony pulled off his bag and dropped it to the ground, followed by his fatigue jacket, tee shirt and weapons. Ziva noted with surprise at how chiseled Tony's physique had become. He moved with easy grace and control. Ziva was enthralled until, like a small child, he ran to the water and leaped in. Ziva let out a small laugh as Tony splashed around for a while and then came back to the shore shaking his head like a dog, spraying water everywhere.

"Care for a dip Ziva?" he asked, a typical DiNozzo smile gracing his features. That made Ziva truly smile. She felt forgiven and accepted by Tony. She'd seen the way he'd treated those he thought of as disloyal and she was grateful that he still treated her as a friend.

"I think for now I am fine Tony." Tony shrugged as if to say "suit yourself" and plunged back into the water. Tony found it refreshing. The river was rather peaceful and there were no uncomfortable rocks to cut into Tony's feet. For the first time since being out of the camp, he started to relax and just as he closed his eyes, the peace was shattered.

"Tony!" screamed Ziva over the sound of gunfire. Instantly, Tony ducked down into the water as bullets came flying at him. When there was a break he came up for air and looked around for their attackers.

"Get out of the water!" shouted Ziva. Snapping back to reality Tony rushed to the water's edge, running as fast as he could to Ziva as gunfire pelted at him. He jump behind the rock where Ziva had been previously sitting. She'd rolled off as soon as the gunfire started.

"Are you hurt?" asked Tony over the machine gun fire.

"No time for that Tony. I cannot load the rile with one hand." Understanding, Tony quickly put a new clip into the assault rifle and put it in Ziva's good hand. She pulled the strap over her head and used the wrist of her left arm to prop it up. Before she could get a shot off, however, parts of there rock were blasted away, forcing Tony and Ziva to crouch lower to the ground. The only saving grace was the large boulder at their back.

Using a small periscope, Tony looked to see that their attackers. Some were situated atop boulders across the river and others were in front of the boulders, beginning to make their way across the river. Tony dropped the periscope and grabbed a hand gun and knife.

"Cover me Ziva." Before Ziva could argue, Tony jumped from behind the rock and dove into the deepest part of the river. Silently cursing his brash action, Ziva concerned herself with shooting the men on the top of the boulders. They made themselves easy targets and Ziva marked them with great satisfaction. In fact she was so drawn in to shooting her adversaries that she forgot about Tony until he burst from the water at the other side of the river. And when he did, she had to gasp at what she saw.

Tony fought with the ferocity of a wild cat. Has gun flashed at opponents who where far away, felling them with single shots. As for those unfortunate enough to be close to him, he dwelt with them by hand. In a flurry of kicks, elbows and punches, Tony relived the attackers of their weapons. Then in a series of spins, he used the butt of his gun to whack the temples of his attackers, rendering them unconscious if not dead. Finally, there were two men left standing. Tony threw his gun to the side as one of the men rushed him. The man threw punches at Tony, but Tony dodged so quickly that it appeared as though the man was moving in slow motion. He did, however, manage to let Tony have access to his neck. Tony wrapped an arm around the man's throat, cutting off oxygen and blood flow to the brain. It was only when the man's thrashing became too violent that Tony plunged the knife into his gut. Instantly the man ceased to move and Tony let him fall to the ground.

The one man left was no fool and nor was he as easy to beat as the men scattered on the river's bank. He was just as fast as Tony and managed to land a kick to Tony that sent him sprawling at the river's edge. Before Tony could could quite get his feet under him, the man tackled Tony full tilt into the water.

Ziva cried out as both men disappeared from the surface. Cautiously, she abandoned her hiding place and went to the river's edge. She starred into its dark depths, hoping for a glimpse of Tony and failing.

One of the most painful two minutes Ziva could remember passed until finally, a small way down the river, a man broke the surface, struggling for the shore. Ziva tensed for an instant but seeing that the upper half of the man bore no shirt and was the lighter colored skin of a European American, she lowered her gun and limped as quickly as she could to where he'd reached the river bank. Using her good hand she helped drag Tony out of the water. Once most of him was out of the water, he flopped onto his back, his eyes closed taking deep breaths and sometimes coughing.

Ziva used her eyes to silently assess his body for visible wounds. Finding none, she sat to him and leaned over him placing her hand on the side of his face.

"Tony? Tony, open your eyes and look at me. Tony, look at me." Tony's eyes slowly fluttered open and after a moment settled on Ziva.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse. Ziva gave him a light thump on the shoulder. He coughed up a laugh.

"Oh course I am okay, Tony. I did not fight a man twice my size in a river." She paused for a moment, taking in his face and realizing that she was insanely relieved that he was fine. "Are you okay, Tony?" She asked, her teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

Tony paused for a moment, catching the smarmy remark in his mouth before he let it out. He could see she was truly concerned. Instead he placed his hand on hers that was on his face.

"I'm fine Ziva. Maybe a little tired, but altogether whole." She smiled one last time and gently pulled her hand away. Standing up, she extended that hand to him. He shook his head and rolled over to his stomach and pushed himself up off the ground.

"Sorry, Sweet cheeks. No offense meant really, it's just that if I let you try to help me up, I might end up pulling you down on account of your various injuries. We both know that would suck." Ziva gave a sigh of exasperation at Tony's ceaseless concern for her but saw the logic in his argument regardless.

"Once I change, we've got to get out of here. I'm sure these guys have friends. And we're going to have to find out how they got here." The answer to the question of the terrorists mode of transportation was actually a pleasant one. They'd come through the desert ready jeeps, some with relatively full tanks.

Two hours later, they were just twelve mile out of Heis. Tony had planned to go to Erivago but with the jeeps, they had no need to stop.

_That, and if they can track us to a river, they can track us to a city close to their camp,_thought Tony to himself.

After a while, Ziva broke the silence.

"Tony, what happened to you?" her voice reflected how much thought she'd been in for most of the drive.

"What do you mean, Zee?" asked Tony, genuinely confused.

"What happened back at that river. I have never seen you fight like that." Ziva turned to look at Tony as he drove.

"Come on Ziva, you know I have _always _been good for a fight."

"Tony, let me be honest. If I knew you could fight like that, it would have been no surprise to me that you bested Micheal." At that Tony's face clouded over. He knew that she would not take a slack jawed answer and let the conversation drop.

"You sure you want to here this?" Ziva just continued giving him a steely look from her still slightly swollen face.

"Ziva when you left, I...I realized how much I'd changed. How much you changed me. I wanted very badly to polish off a bottle of tequila in the dark of my apartment, wallowing in my guilt an sorrow. You know, had it been a couple of years ago, I would have. But as soon as I tried to drink, your face...it just appeared in my mind. And...I couldn't do it. I couldn't even open the bottle. But hey, a guy's gotta drown his sorrow with something. I chose exercise. It seemed like the only thing you would approve of and I wasn't about to start reading for hours on end. So basically, I became an exercising machine. I learned how to fight pretty well along the way." Tony kept his eyes forward on the road, scared of what her reaction might be.

Ziva just remained silent, staring into the desert.

"What?" asked Tony, eager and fearful for her response. She looked away from Tony as she talked.

"I am glad I did at least one thing right, while I was with NCIS." Tony heard the choked up emotion in her voice and reached out a hand and lightly placed it on her shoulder. She did not respond to his gesture, but Tony took it as a good sign that she did not push it away.

"Ziva, you don't have to look at me, but I want you to listen to me. Years of friendship do not evaporate with one bad decision. It wouldn't have been a strong friendship if it could. And you happen to be my best friend." Ziva still did not turn around, but Tony could feel some of her tension dissipate at his words. He returned his hand to the wheel and rode on towards the city.


	21. What Happened to You Part 2

Ch. 21 What Happened to You part 2

The sun was just beginning to set when they reached the city. The city itself was small and jumbled together. The buildings were a combination of newer steel and glass and older stone and brick. The older builds looked as though they'd been forced together by the construction of the new buildings.

Tony and Ziva abandoned the car in front of what seemed to be a local tavern. Ziva waited in the car as Tony asked directions to their contacts home. The directions led them to a shadier part of town, to an old run down building that looked as though it was being held up by the two buildings on either side of it. Tony and Ziva imperceptibly moved closer to each other.

The was cracked open after the fifth knock. A pair of eyes stared out, looking Tony and Ziva up and down.

"How can I help you?" Came a heavily accented English.

"Are you the only one who lives here?" asked Tony, not wanting to give away their purpose to a stranger.

"Yes," responded the man suspiciously.

"Then we're expected. Agent Gibbs should have phoned ahead." replied Tony, keeping his voice low.

"Agent Gibbs...ah, yes Agent Gibbs. Come in." The man's face had gone from complete confusion to a face of false understanding. It made Ziva uneasy. It was not the typical reaction people got from Gibbs' name. He led them into the building taking them into a kitchen. Slowly, he bustled around the room, pulling out two cups and a bottle of water, which he opened and poured for them.

"Please, sit. What are your names?" Again, this struck Ziva as odd as she and Tony sat. _Why would Gibbs not tell him our names, _she wondered wordlessly.

"I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and this is Off-"

"Ziva David," cut in Ziva, throwing a faint glare at Tony. He simply shrugged, resigning himself to the fact that she'd explain herself later.

"David? A _Hebrew _name no doubt? Making you _Jewish?_" He said the word "Hebrew" and "Jewish" as if they left an ill taste in his mouth. Ziva saw such a flash of hatred in his eyes that she shuddered, backing up in her chair slightly. Tony looked between the two and decided it was safer for him to speak.

"Look sir, we're very tired. I need to call Agent Gibbs. Do you happen to have a satellite phone I could use?"

"Please, drink. And call me Tariq" Seeing that he wouldn't say anything else until they drank, Tony and Ziva reached forward and took a cup. Both took only a small mouthful to satisfy the man. He nodded when they set their cups back to the table, a small smile gracing his features.

"I will show you up to your room. My study is in room just before. I will get the phone from there while you two settle in." The three ascended the steps, Tony helping Ziva. They passed the man's study and Tony got a good look inside. It was modern, with a laptop on a desk and bookshelves filled with books in all sorts of languages. A window showed the roof of the building behind theirs. Tony entered his room with Ziva and deposited his bag on the floor. Ziva took a seat on the bed, looking to be in deep thought. He had time to take a deep breath before Tariq came in, with a phone in his hand.

Tony mumbled a small thanks as he began to dial the number. Tariq left the room leaving the door open.

"_Gibbs," _came a voice over the phone, Tony couldn't help but smile.

"Hey, Boss." replied Tony. Tony could hear the sigh of relief on the other side of the phone.

"_DiNozzo. It's good to finally hear from you. Fill me in._"

"We're in Heis, Boss, at your contact's place. Ziva's here. She's in a rough shape, but alert. Getting out of that camp was little tough, but we managed it."

"_Good. We should be able to pick you up in twenty four hours. However, I want you to meet me at the local airstrip. It's got a small hanger and it's on the west side of town. It's the only one around._"

"Got it, Boss." Tony's eyes fluttered suddenly and he gave a huge yawn. Suddenly, he felt dead on his feet.

"_You need rest DiNozzo. You did good_."

"Yeah..Boss, just one...more thing. Your con...tact? Tariq? Didn't you tell...him we were coming?" Tony was teetering on his feet.

"_What? Tar... the infor..named Nazeem. Tony yo..at the...place. That's n..he..tact!"_

"Sorry, Boss, can't hear you. Signal's going." Tony suddenly felt as though he was being watched. Clumsily, he spun around. His mind barely registered that Ziva was slumped unconscious on the bed. In the doorway, Tariq stood with a cigar smoking clamped between his teeth. In his hands he held a short wave signal scrambler. An evil smile plastered his face as he strode forward and plucked the phone from Tony's hand, ending the call with a press of a button. Tony simply sunk to the floor staring up at Tariq with his drooping eyes.

"Yes, DiNozzo. A sleeping agent in the water you drank. This should give our mutual friends a chance to catch up with you. They didn't like the slip in the desert. They'll be here soon. Sweet Dreams."

"How...you find us." asked Tony, fighting to remain conscious.

"What, you think we carved up your friend just to make her look like on of your turkeys? Check the base her neck one of these days." Tony lost his fight, sprawling on the floor completely.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Ziva's head pounded as her eyes fluttered open. She sat up slowly from her position on the bed and then was overwhelmed with a wave of nausea. She lurched forward and emptied the contents of her stomach into a trash bucket by the door of their room. She silently cursed herself.

_It was the blasted water. I knew something was wrong. Damn Tony and his trusting nature. _Despite her thoughts, Ziva was overcome with a sense of concern for Tony. Finding it less pain to crawl along the floor, Ziva made her way to the other side of the bed where Tony's tall frame was sprawled on the floor. She drew herself level with his face. Letting her cheek hover over his face, she felt relief bloom in her chest, thawing the fear that had settled there at the thought that Tony might be dead.

She grabbed his wrist with the watch attached and saw that she at least had been out for seven hours, making it the middle of the night.

_If that is the case, Tony should be coming to soon._

As if on cue, Tony let out a loud groan which Ziva instinctively muffled with her hand. His eyes opened and focused on her blearily. Slowly she drew her hand away.

"Sleeping drug, in the water." he muttered. Ziva simply nodded. Using the bed she pulled herself up and back up from Tony, anticipating his nausea, which presented itself just then. Tony shuddered and climbed to his feet.

"We have to leave." whispered Ziva. Tony nodded and grabbed his bag. Ziva went to the door and listened intently. Hearing no movement, Ziva tugged the door open.

Later, she would curse herself on not noticing the wire at the bottom of the door. But just then the blast that threw Ziva and Tony back against the opposite wall of the room completely occupied her thought.

Tony fought dizziness as he looked around. He heard nothing but saw that the blast not only blew apart the doorway but started a fire that was beginning to engulf the entire hallway and top floor. The first sound he did hear was cries of pain coming from somewhere to his left.

Shoving burning debris out of the way, Tony moved to where he heard the sounds. What he saw made him swear. Ziva's leg was caught under the door that betrayed her and in the same fell swoop, protected her from the full force of the blast. Like Tony, her cloths were burned and her skin had burns. Tony cast an eye around the room and house that was quickly being consumed by ferocious. It seemed that some sort of fuel had been triggered by the bomb blast. He quickly turned back to Ziva and scalding his hands slightly, he pushed the burning door off of Ziva's leg. She gave out another cry of pain. Tony, thankfully, saw that her leg wasn't broken; but, the skin was burned in places and in others torn up by the door that had splintered.

Pulling himself up to Ziva he grasped her head with both of his hands.

"Ziva, listen to me!" he shouted over the roaring fire and ringing in his ears from the bomb blast. She blinked away the tears filling her eyes.

"Ziva, this place is coming down. If we don't move, we die. I need to keeping moving no matter how bad it hurts. We've got to move or we die. And I will not exit this building without you." Ziva looked him in the eyes and nodded. Tony jumped slightly as a beam came crashing down from the ceiling. He hauled Ziva to her feet. Ziva bit back the cry of pain, but could not stop the tears falling from her eyes.

Tony pulled Ziva's arm around her shoulder and half dragged her from the room, her leg now useless. The house was completely consumed by fire and smoke, choking Tony as he looked around trying to find an out. The heat got so intense that he had no choice put to pull himself and Ziva into the next room. Tariq's study.

Coughing through the smoke, Tony looked and saw a sign of hope. The window behind the desk opened to the roof of the next building. Coughing and pulling Ziva, he made it to the window. Ziva then spoke.

"Tony. Phone. Desk." she coughed the words out and Tony looked at the desk. There, as if a gift, sat the satellite phone. Quickly, Tony grabbed the phone and stuffed it into his pocket. He leaned Ziva against the desk and tried to open the window, but it was too hot for Tony to grab. He took a step back and kicked at the window. It only cracked. Chunks of ceiling fell, spraying them with hot ashes. The room was coming apart, the door burning and the metal of the hinges melting. Knowing that he had seconds, Tony let out a guttural yell and with all the strength he had kicked the window out, creating an opening. His heart dropped, seeing that the roof of the next building was two stories down and required a seven foot jump.

Tony turned back into the room and felt Ziva lean up against him. He saw the desk she was previously leaning on had finally caught flame.

"We gotta jump Ziva, it's our only shot. Just hold onto to me for the jump, but if you can let go when we hit the roof." Another blast echoed through the house.

"Move," stated Ziva. Ziva pulled her left arm out of it's tattered sling and put it around Tony's neck. The other hand she reached under his arm to grasp her hand around his back. She looked into her eyes and nodded once. Tony jumped out into the air.

The room they were in exploded behind them the blast propelling them forward onto the roof. Ziva let go and both of them hit the roof in a painful jumble. Tony looked back at the building as it burned in a sort of demented rage, as though it were furious that two of it's occupants had escaped. Tony rolled to his feet and went to where Ziva was laying. He pulled her to her feet, where she rested most of her weight on him.

"You okay?" Tony asked, then mentally kicking himself for asking such a stupid question.

To his surprise, Ziva let out a small laugh.

"Considering the circumstances, Tony, I'm doing quite well." Tony smiled a little and then hobbled them both off to the edge of the rooftop.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Tony, will stop being a baby and let me look at it?" Ziva sat on the dingy bed with her leg propped up as Tony paced, trying to clean a wound he'd received on his arm sometime in the fire.

"Zee, I got. Stop... nagging. You should be more concerned with your current state of health rather than mine." Tony continued to pace, frustrated and not being able to clean the whole wound when he heard the sound of slow, shuffling feet. When he turned, Ziva was right in front of him.

"The fact is, Tony, that I _am _concerned about your state of health. I am forever indebted to you. The least I can do his help you with your arm." At this point, Ziva was standing mostly one one leg, favoring the left one that was injured in the bomb blast. Tony sighed and rubbed his head with his other hand.

"Will you sit down if I say yes?" Ziva gave a half smile and hobbled back to the bed, propping her leg up again. After getting off the roof, Tony and Ziva had gone back to their discarded car where they'd left most of their gear and headed west towards the airport hanger. Along the way, they'd found a small road side inn where they'd decided to stop in for the remainder of the night. The Innkeeper ask no questions about Tony or his attire, but gave them a tiny room with a chair, a bed, a sink, toilet and shower. The first thing Tony did was call Gibbs and filled him in. Gibbs promised to be there in three hours.

Tony sat next to Ziva on the bed handing her the antiseptic wipes that he'd been unsuccessfully trying to use. Without asking permission or really giving Tony a chance to argue, she undid what was left of his shirt and slowly slid it off his body. Tony shuddered slightly when he felt her surprisingly cool hands on his arms. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What, Tony?" asked Ziva, effectively controlling the tremor in her voice. Pulling Tony's shirt off for him gave her a more than friendly feeling towards him; one that she wasn't quite ready to explore just then.

"I dunno David, you seemed to enjoy that." Tony's voice was light hearted despite their circumstance. Ziva gave him a smile.

"Well, Tony, you are much more pleasant on the eyes than you used to be."

"Hey, I've always been a fine example of superior male fitness."

"Hush and stop moving. Let me look at this." Tony's wound was on his left bicep and seemed to be bad abrasion, probably caused by flying debris. As gently as she could, Ziva cleaned the wound and wrapped it firmly in a fresh bandage.

"There you go, Tony, good as new."

Tony pulled on a tee shirt as he spoke. "Thanks. You know, speaking of good as new, the swelling in your face is almost gone. Looks like you'll have a pretty wicked scar across your eyebrow." Ziva's face clouded slightly, but she tried to hide the fact from Tony.

"I am glad to hear that Tony. Finally getting back to normal." Tony wasn't fooled.

"I said something wrong, I can tell." He looked at her, concern written on his face. Ziva shook her head slightly and looked down.

"It is nothing you said Tony. It is just that I will never be able to forget about this. Ever." Suddenly Ziva looked up, anger and confusion written on her face.

"Every time I look at myself in a mirror Tony, I will see their faces. And I will think of the betrayal and my blindness, my inability to see the corruption around me." Tony shift over so that he lay on his back on the bed and gently pulled Ziva down next to him. For once, she didn't fight, but buried her head in his shoulder. She didn't cry, but Tony felt the anger edging off.

"Zee...what happened to you back there?" Ziva turned her face out of his shoulder and drew a deep breath before speaking.

"They tried to break me Tony. It was like having a veil viscously torn from your face, where the hand grabbing it scratches you in the process. What hurt the most was realizing that I had betrayed the only people who had truly cared about me and that I might never get the chance to say I was sorry. I thought I was going to die and I had accepted it. I got to the point that I considered death the proper form of atonement for the things I had done and allowed to happen." Ziva stopped speaking and turned her head back into Tony's shoulder. Tony just held her tighter, not finding words to say that might comfort her. They lay that way for a while.

Suddenly, as though being shocked, Tony remembered his conversation with Tariq.

"Ziva , let me see the back of your neck. Quick." Confused, Ziva turned so Tony could see. He swore aloud at what he saw. Barely under the skin was a small black strip. It looked as though it had been put there early on because in three weeks, the skin had grown over it.

"Okay, Ziva, I have to do something that's gonna hurt a lot for you." _And me, _thought Tony to himself.

"What is it Tony?" asked Ziva, slightly worried.

"The bastards inserted a GPS tracker at the base of your skull under the skin. I need to cut out."

"Are you joking, Tony?"

"Do I usually ask to cut into your neck?" Tony asked pulling out his knife. Before Ziva could say anything else, he cut across the skin that covered the device and pulled it out. He moved so quickly that Ziva had time only to utter a quick yelp of pain before he held up a bandage to the wound. Reaching around her he held up this device for her to see.

"_Harah._" she muttered. Using his hands Tony broke the delicate piece of equipment. Easing himself from the bed he went to the door. He went into the hallway and listened down. To his acute frustration and horror, he heard the rough voice of Tariq hassling the innkeeper, who was mercifully keeping the confidentiality of his guest. Tony reentered the room and got Ziva to her feet as he explained.

"Tariq is here. Gibbs will be here in a half an hour. We need to get to that hanger now."


	22. The Guardian

Ch. 22 The Guardian

A/N: Yes I named this chapter after the Kevin Costner/ Ashton Kutcher movie; hopefully you'll see why. If you haven't seen the movie, you should, because it is truly awesome. Thanks for the reviews and such. The the season premier is Tuesday (which I'm totally psyched about) and I'm sure my story doesn't follow what will actually happen. Regardless, I will continue writing it, if for nothing but the sheer joy of writing.

After tossing his last grenade into the lobby of the inn as a distraction, Tony and Ziva shuffled down the back stair well. Tony had felt some regret at endangering the innkeeper with his explosive, at least until the man gave away their room number without so much as a small protest for the right to confidentiality.

They tried to round the corner of the building to get back to their rightfully stolen vehicle, but soon discovered Tariq was not as stupid as they would have liked. A sentry posted outside sounded the alarm and immediately opened fire on them. Soon, the sound of gun fire filled the air as Tony and Ziva sprinted as fast as they could the the brush that surrounded the outskirts of the hotel. Without looking back and aiming, Tony fired back a couple of shots from one of his hand guns. His shoots forced the shooters to pause giving Tony and Ziva the second they needed to disappear into the darkness. Angry shouts where heard behind them, but they kept moving.

"The hanger is in this direction. We can make it still." Tony gasped as they moved. Despite his optimal fitness, he was tired and it was starting to catch up with him. Fumbling in his pocket he pulled out a lighter.

"Tony, what are you doing?" questioned Ziva, her voiced laced with pain and exertion. Tony ignored her question and ripped a piece of his already tattered shirt off. Despite the sound of approaching cars behind them, Tony managed to light his shirt piece aflame. He upended the lighter and with all his might bit on the end of the cheap plastic. The plastic shattered in his mouth, letting forth the unmistakable odor of lighter fluid. He poured the liquid from the lighter onto his already burning shirt piece, yelping slightly as it went up in quick flame. Quickly as he could manage, he dropped the rag into one of the many dry bushes around him.

After a few more strides, he chanced a glance back and saw with pleasure that the dry vegetation was catching flame rapidly, creating a huge amount of smoke. It was the sound of Ziva stumbling into the dirt next to him that brought his attention back to their current plight. In the dim light of stars, Tony saw the Ziva was pale as the moon. Despite the direness of their situation and all his aversion to reading, Percy Shelly's words filled his head.

_Art thou pale for weariness  
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,  
Wandering companionless  
Among the stars that have a different birth,  
And ever changing, like a joyless eye  
That finds no object worth its constancy? _

Quickly looking with his eyes, he saw that the bandage on her waist was completely bled through and that her injured leg trembled with weariness.

"Zee, we gotta keep going. I'm sorry." He apologized as he pulled her to her feet, drawing a great cry of pain from her. Taking most of her weight on his shoulders, Tony pushed onward towards the airstrip.

What started out as a burning cloth had turned into a brush fire, forming a wall between their pursuers and themselves. Shots were still being fired, but they where totally off the mark. After twenty minutes of hard work and gasping breath, Tony and Ziva came upon the air hanger just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. They entered a mercifully empty office space. Tony barricaded the door with an upturned table and called Gibbs, letting them know of the situation. Gibbs said that their ETA was ten minutes. After Tony hung up, he went to Ziva.

Ziva was sitting against a wall, her head tilted back and her eyes closed. Tony laid a tentative hand on her cheek. She weakly opened her eyes. Tony winced in sympathy, noting the sheer exhaustion on her features.

"Hey Sweet cheeks, we're almost home. I need you to stay awake, okay? We're almost there, but you can't sleep now." Tony's voice was quiet and Ziva found it soothing. A small voice in her head reminded her that if it had been a year ago, she would have brushed Tony's concern aside, asserting her independence.

_Well, it is not a year ago. _She reminded herself tiredly.

"Tony, thank you. I am sorry I ever doubted your sincerity." Ziva's voice was quiet and tired.

"Hey, I thought we were past that. No harm, done right? Well, except for the obvious. What kind of...partner would I be if I didn't come back for you?" Tony gave a small smile.

"Tony, at the camp; what did you say when you untied me? The very first thing." Ziva couldn't quite remember his words. She knew they where important, but her mind couldn't recall the _words._

"I...I said I was...I _was _jeal-" Tony cut off at the sound a helicopter landing. Tony didn't move until he heard the sound of gunfire and shouts.

"Gibbs is here, but I think so is Tariq." Tony kept his gun leveled at the door. Seconds passed in tense silence that was punctuated only by the sound of rapid gunfire.

Tony jumped when the door burst open and closed before tony could react. Gibbs wiped the sweat from his brow and looked at Tony and pointed out to the hanger.

"Couldn't you be a little more discreet DiNozzo?" Tony let out a half sigh and laugh. He was truly overjoyed to see Gibbs.

"Sorry Boss. You know I have that effect on people." Gibbs gave Tony a smirk. He then turned to face Ziva. Ziva knew that the harshness of Gibbs' stare was not directed at her but her tormentors, yet she could not help but cower a little in front of him. She hated that Gibbs had to see so broken. She lowered her eyes, unable to hold Gibbs' stare. After moment, she felt the most gentle tap to the back of her head. She looked up and found Gibbs in front of her, a sad smile on his face. Ziva was shocked to see the crows feet and tired bags under his slightly bloodshot eyes.

Smoothing her hair back as a father might, Gibbs spoke softly.

"Didn't I tell you to take care of yourself?" he asked. Ziva gave him a half smile, letting her gratitude radiate through her eyes.

"Not to be a Johnny Raincloud, but we have to get out of here. Like, now." Said Tony. In the hanger, the Navy SEALs where doing a tremendous job of holding off Tariq's men, but they couldn't hold out forever. Gibbs wrapped Ziva's arms in his and pulled her to her feet. She would have fallen if Gibbs wasn't holding her up.

"Boss, give me your gun. You take Ziva and I'll cover the both of you." Gibbs gave Tony a hard, questioning look. Tony returned it in seriousness.

"Just get her to the chopper safely, Boss," The words were an order, but Gibbs saw the pleading in Tony's eyes. He nodded, unsure of what Tony was up to, but agreeing anyway. He pulled his assault rifle off and handing it to Tony, who pulled the strap over his own shoulder. He went to the door and as soon as there was a slight pause in gunfire, opened it and stepped out of the office firing at the oncoming terrorists. Gibbs pulled Ziva from the room. He wouldn't have been able to explain how, but somehow, he got Ziva onto the chopper. He gave the sign for the chopper to go, trusting Tony to jump on.

Tony, kept firing and when there was a pause in the shooting and the helicopter was hovering, he turned and leaped up to it. At the chopper's height, Tony only managed to get his upper half onto the chopper, his legs dangling. Tony concentrated on holding on while Gibbs shouted for the pilot to get out of the hanger. Then Tony became aware of a hand gripping his. It was Ziva, who was on the floor of the chopper and unable to do much else.

The chopper was moving forward towards a glorious sunrise to the east when old, rusty doors of the hanger began to close and more terrorists began to stream into the hanger shooting semi and automatic weapons. Tariq had found reinforcements somewhere.

Tony watched watched everything unfold as though it were happening in slow motion and one thought consumed his thoughts: _We're not going to make it. _ He looked towards the hanger door, where the control panel was located. Tariq was causing the doors to close. Tony shut his tight then turned to look at Ziva. Ziva's stomach clenched with fear as she stared into Tony's determined eyes. He pulled himself closer so that he could speak in her hear without having to yell.

"I was jealous of Michael. I didn't mean to hurt you, but...what can I say? I love you." Looked at him startled. He smiled and bent his neck to kiss the hand holding his. He relaxed his arms and let gravity pull him back to the ground.

"No, Tony! No! Gibbs, Tony got off, he let go! Do something!" Shouted Ziva. By the time Gibbs spun around, Tony was sprinting toward the hanger door, shooting terrorists as he went. After a moment, another loud, grating sound heralded the change in direction at the hanger door. Seizing the opportunity, the pilot shot through the doors. All the while, Gibbs was holding Ziva back from the open door of the chopper.

A/N: I know it wasn't super long, but I needed to get a chapter out there and keep this story going. Lemme know what you think!!


	23. Haze

A/N: Hello again. How are you going on this fine, if overcast, Saturday? I'm trying to pump out as many chapters as possible in the next few days, however, in my hate, I realize that I'm losing some of the descriptive quality. That's shame on me and a problem I will try to rectify. So, if it wasn't clear in the last chapter, Tony had to let go of the chopper because Tariq was closing the hanger doors and needed to be stopped. The doors would have closed before the chopper got to it, therefore trapping our heroes if Tony did not stop Tariq and reverse the doors. Not to mention there were lots of bad guys with lots of guns, making life a little more difficult.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the coming chapters. As always, thank you for the reviews.

Ch 23 Haze

Ziva was roused by the sound of voices on the edge of her consciousness. There were two, and both seemed to be trying to keep quiet and both were failing. Slowly she tried to open her eyes, immediately shutting them as bright light filtered in. She blinked her eyes, letting them adjust to the light around her. If the light hadn't tipped her off, the whitewashed walls and the slow beeping of a machine let her know she was in a hospital. She looked to her left and saw McGee sitting on a chair, a legal pad on his knee, a pen in one hand and his chin rested in one hand. Ziva saw the bags under his eyes as well the light scruff around his jaw line. _He must be exhausted, _she thought.

"Tim," her voice came out as a croak, her throat dry from lack of water. Tim looked up and a brilliant smile erupted on his weary face, making him look like the winner of a marathon. He held up his finger to his lips, indicating that she should not talk and then pointed it out the hospital door. Ziva remembered the loud voices and nodded her head to say she understood. McGee filled a cup with water and helped her to drink it. She nodded her thanks and then shifted her attention to listening to the voices outside her door. Truthfully, it wasn't difficult.

The first voice was obviously Gibbs and Ziva could tell he was fuming. The second voice made her blood run cold with fear. It was that of Eli David and he was equally mad as Gibbs. Ziva glanced down at her hospital wrist band and saw the lettering was in Hebrew. They were in Israel.

"She is my daughter, Gibbs. My _daughter! _It is my right to enter that room! Not only is she my daughter, she if my officer! " shouted Eli.

"Daughter my ass David! You claim as your daughter and an officer, but in reality you only see her as your officer. You don't care about her, just the job and I am _not _about to let you go in there and bother her about the job." replied Gibbs, equally loud.

"Gibbs, you are a fool. She has been in the custody of terrorists; we need to determine what was told to her and what she might have told them. The sooner the better Gibbs." said Eli, completely abandoning his plea as a father.

"Eli, you sick bastard. You don't even care what kind of condition she's in. You haven't even asked. You sent her on a _suicide _mission with a _rough agent_ and all you care about is damage control. No, Eli, no I'm not letting you in there." Gibbs voice radiated disgust with Eli. Ziva barely moved a muscle, listening to what her father would say.

"How dare you have the gall the accuse one of my most trusted officers of treason without proof? No, Hadar and Michael conversing is not proof. None! I have already told you, my officers answer to me. Ziva got herself into trouble. If she was caught, it had nothing to do with Hadar and everything to do with weakness acquired with your NCIS. Ziva has had questionable loyalty over the past five years Gibbs. Being as easily impressionable as she has proven to be, we need to make sure that she has incurred no...lasting damage from her experience." Ziva's heart panged with hurt at her father's accusation that she might be a traitor to Mossad and NCIS.

"Eli, she could have died! They would have killed her. Hadar would have killed her!" yelled Gibbs, disbelief shining through his voice.

"Then at least we would know no information was leaked! Now, let me see my daughter." Eli ground out. Ziva turned her head away from McGee so that he could not see the angry tears that had welled up in her eyes.

"Over my dead body." answered Gibbs, his voice considerably lowered and dangerous.

"Be careful Gibbs. You do not know how easily that could be arranged. You are in my country." Eli paused. "When she is well enough I expect her to present herself at Mossad. Even you cannot stop that." Ziva heard footsteps leading away from the door to her room and a knot in her chest came undone as she breathed a sigh of relief. McGee just patted her hand.

"Don't worry," he said, "your dad would have to through me too. If he wants to talk to you at least.'' Ziva smiled at McGee.

"Thank you Tim."

"You heard all that?" asked Gibbs, his voice gruff. He was in a fresh set of cloths, in typical Gibbs style.

"Yes," replied Ziva. She did her best to betray none of the emotions roiling around inside of her; the anger, the apprehension, the disappointment.

Gibbs just nodded and took a seat on the other side of the bed from McGee. He ran his hands through his hair taking a deep breath.

"How do you feel?" he asked. She tried to shrug her shoulders but found it hurt to do so.

"As well as I can expect I suppose." she replied, her voice neutral.

"Doctors said you where in a pretty bad shape. Two fingers broken, the other two severely fractured. Cracked ribs. A bullet wound to the right side and severe burns to your leg and several minor ones all over you. Not to mention the innumerable cuts and bruises and a broken nose. Doctors where surprises that you lasted so long in such a condition."

"You have Tony to thank for that Gibbs. I would be dead if not for him." Ziva looked up at Gibbs, a question in her eyes. Gibbs' face reflect only sadness.

"We all would be Ziva. Tony got us out." Gibbs voice was quiet but full of emotion.

"Gibbs, why did we not turn back for him?" Ziva knew that they'd left Tony behind. The sadness in Gibbs eyes told her that. She dreaded what Gibbs might say.

"He closed the doors to the hanger. We turned around, but we couldn't get back in." Ziva turned her head away from Gibbs. In the back of her mind, she noted that McGee had left. She began to fidget with the wrappings around her left hand. _If only I had a gun to clean, _she thought wistfully.

"Gibbs," she started, her voice quiet. Gibbs said nothing, waiting for what she had to say. "I...I owe you an apology. I made some very bad decisions that were not based on very much fact. I put my trust in people who I had no reason to trust and betrayed you and...and Tony." Ziva could no longer repress the tears that had filled her eyes. Despite the tears, she kept talking, her voice firm.

"I...I understand if I have lost your trust for good. It is my fault that Tony is...that Tony--" Ziva couldn't continue. Silently, Gibbs sat at the edge of her bed. Taking care for her injuries, Gibbs pulled her to him. He said nothing, letting her sob quietly into his shoulder, gently smoothing her hair back.

When her sobs slowed he began to speak.

"Ziva, you were manipulated and lied to. You were taken advantage of in an emotionally raw state and you were used. I'm sorry I let you go without much of a fight. Tony...Tony knew what he was doing." After a while, Ziva's tears slowed. Gibbs leaned her back some so she was resting on the pillows and stood to his feet. He gave her one of his famous smirks.

"You know, I was expecting you to come back. At one point or another, I knew you would. When you did come to your senses, I was planning on giving you one hell of a lecture on knowing who you could trust. I think you learned the lesson." Ziva gave him a feeble smile. Gibbs bent over and kissed the top of her head.

"McGee!" he barked, straightening himself. McGee appeared as if from seemingly nowhere. "You stay with Ziva. No one gets in the room. _No one. _I'm going to go get coffee." McGee nodded once and Gibbs strode out. Ziva was asleep in moments.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

_Two Weeks later_

Not for the first time, Ziva cursed her crutch. It prevented her from pacing as she would have liked. She and Gibbs were waiting in Eli David's reception area. They'd been there for over an hour. Ziva suspected that her father was punishing her and Gibbs.

She'd left the hospital the day before. Her bruises had, for the most part, faded. Her ribs were still sore and her bullet wound still had stitches. Her nose was slightly crooked, but otherwise healed. She could only use one crutch because her fingers were still on the mend and in a sling. McGee had subtly suggested a wheelchair, but Ziva ignored him. She would not face the Director of Mossad in a wheelchair.

"Are you sure you want to go in there alone?" asked Gibbs for the third time. He'd sent McGee home to start on the reports. Director Vance had left Israel as soon as the Navy ship was safe. Gibbs and Ziva were alone and both were anxious to leave. Ziva hadn't even entertained the thought of staying in Israel, not with her father so mad.

Finally, her father's receptionist came allowed her to enter her father's office. Ziva looked at Gibbs.

"Just be ready to leave when I am done." she said. Gibbs smirked and nodded.

In very much the same fashion as a few months ago, Eli was not looking at Ziva, but working on something in front of him. After a few moments, he looked up and smiled. Ziva found felt none of the comfort that that smile used to elicit as a small child. She felt nothing but cold.

"Ziva. It is good to see you on your feet again." Ziva kept the sarcastic remark the sprang to her mind locked inside.

"Thank you, Director." She looked at him and stood as an officer might. She would not treat him as her father if he would not treat her as his daughter.

"I expect a full report of your mission in two days time." He said, looking down at his papers again.

"You may receive it a while after that. I do not know if international mail can get it to you by then." Eli paused in whatever he was writing. Still, he did not look up as he spoke.

"Are you traveling Ziva?" Before she could answer, he continued, "Well, maybe a break would be good for you. I will give you one week. I will have some assignments waiting for you when you return."

"No, Director." Ziva's voice was strong and clear. She as not willing to back down, not for him. Now Director David looked up. He had a curious and confused expression on his face. His left eye twitched slightly as he pulled of his glasses.

"Ziva, what are you talking about?" His question barely contained his frustration with her.

"I am leaving Israel today and I will not be returning. To Mossad or to you." Ziva looked him in the eye, her jaw set.

"Ziva, you must be joking. You belong here. Your family is here."

"No. My family is dead. Tali, Ari, Michael: they are all gone. Hadar has betrayed me.. And one way or another, their deaths have been your fault." Ziva spat, unable to keep her anger in.

"Ziva, do not be foolish. We are Mossad. Your American friends would say it comes with the territory. We expect losses. Death happens. But we put that behind us for the sake of our purpose!" David slapped his hand on the table as he stood. Ziva tried her best to conceal a flinch, but continued regardless.

"And for our purpose, you will harbor a traitor?! I know that you believe Hadar to be blameless. I _will not_ hang around in wait for him to kill me." replied Ziva, her voice getting a fraction louder.

Eli shook his head. "Ziva, you are traumatized. I understand. Give yourself _time _to readjust."

"I have taken all time I can afford." Ziva pulled her Mossad badge from her pocket and tossed it onto her father's desk. Eli's eyes grew angry, his face stony.

"Consider this my resignation form Mossad, Director David." Ziva turned and made her way out of the room. She only paused when her father spoke, his voice quiet and deadly.

"Consider this your warning:If you contact _anyone, _if you buy a plane ticket, if you so much as _think_ about Israel, I promise it will be the last thing you ever do." Ziva turned to look at her father, her face solemn.

"Shalom, Abba."

Gibbs stood and opened the door to exit David's office. As Ziva passed him, Gibbs whispered in her ear, "Just let him _try _to send someone after you." Ziva in turn smirked and hobbled out of the office.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Three weeks later_

Abby was head banging to a tune in her head as she entered her dark lab, singing softly under her breath. It was storming out side and had been a _very _long day; most everyone else in the building had left. As was common, she'd been working on evidence and analysis for team Gibbs. After two _long _weeks, Gibbs, McGee and a temporary agent whose name Abby had not bothered to learn, had finally caught the scumbag who was stealing Navy weapons and supplying DC street gangs with them. The guy was smart and covered his tracks well. What finally did him was that after McGee and Gibbs had caught up to him and he was trying to get away by car, he hit a raised manhole hard enough to blow a tire completely off his vehicle. Catching him proved to be child's play after that.

Yawning, Abby grabbed her coat and threw out her last Caw -Pow when she heard soft music, coming from her office. Confused and a tad scared she walked toward the office. Her sliding door gave a modest _swoosh_ as she approached and gazed inside. The music was a little louder, but not by much.

Looking into the corner of the lab, Abby saw the disturbance. Ziva was in the corner on Abby's futon, her back against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chest. Abby was about to say something when lightning flashed, revealing Ziva's tear streaked face. Immediately, Abby's heart softened.

Abby had been somewhat short with Ziva when Ziva got home. It was obvious that the forensic scientist was happy that Ziva was home and relatively safe, but Tony's absence took quite a toll on Abby's happiness. She'd never out right said anything to Ziva about it, but she'd kept her distance. It would seem that Ziva's presence just reminded Abby of Tony's loss, making it hard for Abby to be her normal jubilant self around Ziva.

"Ziva?" Abby's voice was soft, but it felt thunderously loud in quiet room. "You alright?" At first Ziva didn't respond. Slowly Abby made her way to the futon, planting herself next to Ziva. Finally Ziva spoke.

"I came in to see Director Vance today. I start back at NCIS next week." Abby glanced at the floor and in the light of the lightning saw on the ground a leather wallet-like case. She reached forward and picked it up. It was an identification card as well as a new NCIS badge. It read Special Agent Ziva David.

"But Ziva, this is a good thing isn't it?" Abby asked, slightly confused by Ziva's current mood. Ziva began to fiddle with the bandaging around her fingers. Though she was starting at NCIS the next week, she would remain on desk duty until her fingers had completely healed.

"It was supposed to be a good thing Abby. It should be. But, when does Vance let anything be good?" Instantly, Ziva's mind filled with the images from her meeting with Vance.

"_Let me make this clear, David," said Vance, staring Ziva straight in the eye. She could have sworn he learned that stare from her father. "I do not like what happened in Israel or Somalia. You getting captured by terrorists wasn't what I had in mind when I asked you to keep your eyes and ears open for anything of interest. Losing an agent in Somalia was not what I had in mind when I asked you to keep your eyes and your ears open for anything of interest."_

"_With all due respect Director, I did not ask Tony to do what he did. You of all people know that DiNozzo could never really be told what to do." Ziva replied, keeping the anger she felt out of her voice. She couldn't let Vance see her so upset._

"_Regardless of what I felt about DiNozzo, his loss is noted. I hold your lack of judgment partially responsible for what happened." Ziva looked up at Vance sharply, her eyes flashing with anger._

How dare he?1, _she thought angrily. _He as the one that asked me to spy on Mossad. He was the one who convinced my that Michael was not all he appeared to be. I was acting under his orders! _She though vehemently. For all her malice towards Vance, however, she kept her mouth shut, letting her eyes convey what she truly felt. Vance continued as though he didn't notice._

"_Regardless, David, I am a man of my word. You discovered a rouge agent in Mossad, exposed the corruption with in. You've shown just how far your father will go to retain whatever power or influence he thinks he has. As promised, United States citizenship and a job here at NCIS." Vance pushed a bundle of documents across the table, atop of which rested the new badge and id._

"_You start back on Gibbs' team next week." Vance turned his attention to paperwork on his desk. Ziva took that as her cue to leave._

"What did he say?" asked Abby, bringing Ziva back to the present time. She let out a jagged sigh before continuing.

"Now that I have given it some thought, the truth," replied Ziva. Thunder boomed overhead, accompanied by the mournful sound of the wind blowing against the trees, creating a sound like waves crashing on the ocean.

"What do you mean?" Asked Abby. She asked her questions carefully. Abby was not used to seeing much emotion from Ziva, and the sight of Ziva crying astounded her to end. She didn't want to ask the wrong question and have the stoic assassin pull up her walls of metaphorical defense.

"Tell me truthfully Abby, do you think I killed Tony?" Ziva's voice was quiet and serious. It carried no accusation, but demanded an honest answer. Abby took a deep breath before answering.

"No, Ziva. I don't think you killed him. But I won't lie: I miss him like crazy. And well...I can't look at you without thinking of him. But Ziva, you didn't kill him." Ziva took another ragged breath.

"How are you so sure, Abby? If I ...I had not been so blinded by my own stupid arrogance, I would have seen that Tony only meant to help. Instead, I accused him. I turned my back on him and Gibbs. Abby, I should have done something. He came to save me and I let him go. Abby, I was holding his hand. I..I should have tried harder, I should not have let go." Ziva was crying freely at this point. Abby wrapped her arm around Ziva's shoulders. The storm raged on overhead. Taking a glance outside, Abby saw that the rain was coming down in sheets, completely hindering visibility. _Looks I'm not leaving anytime soon, _she thought. She knew her hearse might not hold to the road very well. Standing to her feet, Abby went behind her desk and opened a drawer, extracting a pot, a tea bag and sugar. From refrigerator in the lab, she grabbed a carton of milk. She filled the pot with water and set it to boil on a portable stove. After a few minutes, the water was boiling. A few more minutes later, Abby was bringing a cup of steaming tea to Ziva. Ziva took the cup and looked up at Abby, a question in her eyes.

"_I _don't drink it. But, you hang out with Ducky long enough, you pick up a few tips on making people feel better." Ziva smiled up at Abby, who sat next to Ziva again. Ziva quietly drank her tea, the warm liquid calming her down.

"I wanted so badly to stay here Abby. But I was so confused. And then Vance offered me a security sheet, someplace to come back to if things in Israel fell apart. I should have known they would have. I wanted so badly to come back and be a Special Agent, to get away from Mossad's deception. I just did not know that the price to be paid was Tony's life. If I had known...I would have acted differently. I do not how, but I would have acted differently." Abby gave Ziva a pat on the back.

"Ziva, first of all, it's a security blanket, not sheet. And second...well, it's not like you could have known the future! When Jenny died, you told Tony that it wasn't his fault. It's the same thing here! It wasn't your fault. If anything it was Vance and your dad's fault, no offense."

"Oh, rest assured, there is none taken. I know who the puppeteers were. I just wish that I could have avoided being their puppet." Abby gave Ziva another one armed hug.

"don't worry Ziva. Things will get better. You're here and your safe." _Yes, but for how long, with Hadar after my blood. _Thought Ziva bitterly. She did not speak the words. Abby did not know that Hadar was out there and Ziva did not truly know that he would come after her; but, Hadar was prideful and had all of Mossad _and _his terrorist cell backing him. He would see her escape as a personal insult to his pride and seek to redeem himself, if only in his eyes. He could easily finish the job he started without anyone coming after him. Anyone but Gibbs at least.

Ziva took a deep breath and turned to look at Abby with a crooked smile. Abby was shocked to see the change in the woman's face; it wasn't just the scars of the slightly crooked nose. It was the change in her eyes; they were sadder, carrying the weight of wisdom and a lesson hard learned. Still, the smile she gave Abby was genuine.

"Thank you Abby. This means a lot to me." said Ziva. Abby responded by seizing Ziva in a tight hug.

"Abby, tea!," exclaimed Ziva, laughing. Abby soon joined in. The laughter lasted for longer than might have been necessary, but both women welcomed the relief from the tense gloom that had befallen them.

A/N: First of all, let me say, I personally don't like a mopey Ziva. But I figure, someone who has just been tortured and lost someone they love needs some time to vent and come to grips. This chapter is the "Come to Grips" chapter. I hope you liked it. If not, that's cool, there are more chapters to come. As always reviews are welcome.

I saw Judgment Day part 2 today. I'm a die hard NCIS fan, but I chose not to watch this episode b/c I knew that the team gets split up at the end. But, my mom was watching and I couldn't resist the urge. I will say, a lot more things make sense now and my dislike for Director Vance has greatly increased. I already didn't like him, but the thing with him shredding a paper from his file...sneaky sneaky. I hope he gets his butt kicked come this Season 7.

Just as a side note, if you actually read this and are praying person, please pray for me. I'm sick and I don't want it to be anything beyond a common cold.


	24. Moonlight

A/N: Hello all. I hope you're doing well on this fine Wednesday afternoon. First of all, thank you to all of you who prayed for me. I ended up being sick with H1N1:-/ But all is well now, I that's a good thing. Secondly, thank you all for your fine fine reviews. Please keep them coming!! I'd love to know what you think of my writing, even if you don't like it. I like constructive criticism.

**Third and final...I am going to mention some of my thoughts about Season 7 in an author's note at the end of this chapter!! **I know there might be some of you who are not yet watching the new season and I don't want to spoil ANYTHING for you. So, I figure this is fair warning.

Please enjoy.

Ch. 24

_Six Months Later_

_The passageway was dark but for the small tendrils of light that filtered through small slats in the ceiling. The air was musty and felt heavy, making the passageway seem more claustrophobic than it might have seemed otherwise. _

_A man walked down the passage. He was in no rush but neither was he taking his time. He was tall, with broad shoulders, dressed in clothes practical for warm climate. He walked with a sense of authority. The men standing at various checkpoints in the hallway averted their eyes in respect and perhaps a little bit of fear. He paused outside a door, listening to the sounds coming from behind it._

_The shouts of a man could be heard, often followed be the pathetic yell or strangled scream of what the man presumed to be pain. A malicious grin spread across his face as he rubbed he long nose with a slender finger. Once he heard another shrill yell, he pushed the door open and entered._

_The room was dark. All the windows had been boarded up with wood and reinforced with steel. The tall man paced as another yelled and tormented a man chained to a table. The man chained to the table wore only a pair of pants and had a knotted rope tied as a gag around his mouth. He was a bloody mess. He'd already endured countless hours of torment, enduring everything from typical beatings and knife cuts to water being forced down his throat, his nose pinched so that he had no choice but to swallow the water, forcing to regurgitate most of it. His tormentor was no applying the use of electrical shock. The tall man who had entered was quietly surprised that the tortured man had held up so long._

"_Why do you not speak? Do you think you are my only well of knowledge? My patience wears thin." said the tall man. The man on the table looked at him with weary, bloodshot eyes. They'd been a clear green color before the start of his interrogation. They'd showed fervor for life and had a mischievous edge to them. Now they showed grim relent, accepting the fate which had befallen their owner._

"_Still you will not talk? I admit, it is surprising. You could seem to shut when you spoke to my boss, Agent DiNozzo. Perhaps the removal of the gag?" Tony stared up at Hadar as Hadar removed the gag. He spit out a mouthful of blood without regard of where it landed._

"_I only want a conversation DiNozzo. You see, I strive to understand the workings of a man's mind. What could possibly posses you to come all this way for your partner and then convince you to stay as our guest. It surely is not our hospitality." Tony simply stared at Hadar. Then, after a moment, he smiled. It was weak and pathetic, carrying none of its usual luster. Hadar found nothing amusing._

"_Enough of this nonsense. You have wasted my time long enough. All for one foolish woman." Hadar pulled his pistol from its holster and leveled it at Tony's head. Tony opened his mouth to speak._

"_S-she's...not j-just....any woman. She's Zee--"._

Tony's voice was cut off with the blast of a pistol and yell from Ziva. She sat up in bed, her heart hammering a hundred miles a minute. She took deep shuddering breaths as she tried to control her heart rate. She was trembling from head to foot covered in sweat.

For months, Ziva had been having nightmares. They were her constant companion as she slept. The nightmares were all different, but the common theme was Somalia. Some nights, she was back in Africa, again being tortured by Saleem. Other nights, it was Tony, captured and beaten beyond recognition. The worst part of the nightmares for Ziva was that they were not short. She could not wake up from the horrors, but rather had to suffer through watching them, constantly reliving them night after night.

She lay her head in her arms which she crossed over her knees. Her heart beat was beginning to slow. The first time she'd had a Somalia nightmare, she was staying at Gibbs' house still unable to do much on her own. He'd been there that time to comfort her. Now she was painfully aware of how alone she was in her own apartment.

She'd moved into a new place after being in town for about a month. It was a nice apartment and had most of everything she had before. Her team had gone to great lengths to make her feel at home. She made sure to express her gratitude to them for they were truly trying. But no matter how hard she or anyone else had tried, no one seemed able to fill the hole that had been created by Tony's absence. No one had realized how important Tony was to their moral fiber or how fragile they would become with his absence. The sharp pain of his loss had somewhat lessened but had been replaced with a deep ache that would flare up in the quietest of moments.

Ziva chanced a glance at her clock and groaned. It was two in the morning and she was too pent up to fall back asleep.

Ziva tossed the sheet away from her and carefully stretched as she got out of bed. She'd been returned to full active duty a few months back but some of the more major aches and pains came back when she was tired and stressed. She leaned to the left, stretching her right side and gently rotated her foot. As she stood, she flexed the fingers of her left hand, marveling at how well they seemed to be working. She'd been most worried that she would have loss the use of that hand therefore ending anything resembling a career she might have had at NCIS. She got to her feet and went to the family room of her apartment. He had a small television in one corner. Two walls were taken up with shelves full of books in various different languages. The third wall was home to a black glossy upright piano. The family room opened into a kitchen that also connected to the living room. She poured herself a glass of water from the tap and set the cup in the dishwasher.

Ziva went back out to the family room and sat at the piano. She stared at the keys for a while before she began to play. Her mind blanked on everything else as Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata poured out from herself and the instrument. She she played, she became aware that a spring storm had started. The thunder rolled in a majestic manner, loud and full, but not jarringly abrasive. It seemed to swell and diminish with the melody of the piece, echoing Ziva's solemn emotion. The storm was not wild and uncontrolled as it had been the night in Abby's lab. The storm of the night at Abby's lab was raw anguish with violent outbursts that shook to the foundation of those who'd witnessed it. This storm was a lamentation; it resounded pity and sadness, the kind of emotion that comes after the anguish and violence. Ziva continued to play pouring herself into the music, letting the melodies support her, consume her. The sad chords and harmonies wrapped around her like a sad embrace, securing her yet mourning with her.

So absorbed was Ziva that she did not hear the knock on her door. What she did hear was the sound of the storm, intensified by the door opening. She stopped playing and not turning around, pulled her throwing knife that was never far from her person.

"You always play piano this early in the morning?" Asked a low voice from the front door. Still, she did not turn around as she answered.

"I always do, when I have nightmares...or cannot sleep. It would seem inappropriate to play something jubilant when nightmares are such sad things. " was her response. She did not turn around, scared yet apprehensive at what, or who she might find.

"Nightmares are scary. But they can be happy too. I mean, you wake up from them right?" Ziva turned slowly in her seat to look at the figure behind her. The man was tall and stood in shadows. She could not see his face, but having just heard his voice in her dreams, she could not mistake his identity.

"What if waking up is so long in coming that you can hardly believe it is real? That you are so accustomed to the nightmare that you are almost afraid to wake up, because it just might be some cruel joke?" Asked Ziva, her voice thick with emotion. The man gave a low chuckle.

"You think this is just a continuation of that dream, eh? Another device of your mind to screw with you?"

"Something like that." replied Ziva, standing to her feet.

"You would need proof then? Some shred of reality that would prove you've woken up?" he asked, his voice serious.

"What is reality? Right now, at this moment, I could be still be dreaming." The man let out what Ziva could tell was a fake sigh of frustration. The man scratched his head as if contemplating. Finally he looked up as though he'd stumbled across a brilliant realization.

"You're not dreaming. Because, if this were a dream, you most likely be using contractions while you talk, Amadeus." replied the man, who could barely contain his smile.

Ziva could stand it no longer. She went to the man, practically ran to him. He caught her in arms that were wonderfully real. She was so afraid that he would be part of the nightmares that plagued her mind and that as soon as she decided to test his validity, he would vanish like a wisp of smoke. But he didn't, and she knew that it had to be real.

Tony held Ziva close to him, reveling in the touch that he'd longed for for months, the touch that had kept him alive. They stayed that way, tightly holding each other until the rain from the storm began to take advantage of the open door. With reluctance, Ziva pulled away and closed the door. Tony took the opportunity to remove his jacket. Ziva exclaimed when she saw Tony's ratty shirt. She began to ask a question when Tony placed his hand to her mouth.

"Not now Zee. I promise you I'll explain everything. But right now, I'm starving and frankly I'm exhausted. Not to mention probably a little dirty." Ziva seized the hand at her mouth and used it to draw Tony close to her. Tony let her and when he was close enough he wrapped his other hand around her neck. He touched his forehead to hers and smiled. Ziva could not help but smile in response.

"You have always been a little dirty." she replied, her voice teasing. Tony smiled even wider and leaned down to kiss her. When they broke apart, Ziva pushed him away slightly.

"Go and shower. I will fix you something to eat."

"Only if you promise to fill me on what I've missed." he replied, his voice teasing.

"Oh, no, not until you fill me in first. Tony, I ...we thought that you were--"

"I'm not. I assure I'm very much alive at the moment." He gave Ziva another hug of reassurance, one she was happy to receive. He pulled away slowly with a smile and then went in search of a shower.

A short while later, Ziva heard footsteps behind her.

"Hey Zee? How in the world did you end up with a box of my clothes?" asked Tony as he walked in pulling an OSU t-shirt over his head. Ziva turned around from the stove and instantly her gaze hardened.

"Tony, are those what I think they are?" she asked, her voice low. Tony, with just his head and arms through his shirt, looked down at his exposed torso. It was obvious to him that Ziva was talking about the seven, rather distinct, small, circular scars that littered his body in no particular order. He sighed and finished pulling down his shirt. Then he walked up to Ziva, gripping her shoulders with his hands, looking her in the eye as she spoke.

"They are exactly what you think they are. I promise I will tell you everything. Just, let me eat first okay?" Ziva gaze was still stern, but she nodded all the same. She serve him a plate of pasta and watched him eat, patiently sipping on a glass of water. Tony ate as though he hadn't for days. Finally, after two full plates of food, he leaned back in his seat with a contented sigh.

"_Grazie_, Ziva." he said.

"_Prego, _Tony. Now that you have eaten, can you explain how you managed to get here while boasting seven bullet wounds?" Ziva's patience had evaporated. Tony sighed again and got to his feet, making his way to her couch. Ziva followed him and sat at one end of the couch, her back to the arm rest facing him. She looked at him expectantly. Tony tapped his chin, deciding where to start his story. After a while, he began to speak.

"As you know, I shut the hanger door. You probably couldn't see it from the chopper, but they brought in some hefty fire power. When I turned around..."

A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger, but hey, it keeps life more interesting.

So how about this new season?? I think it's great so far and am vastly enjoying myself. Though I admit, I've never been so frustrated with Gibbs before this season. In fact I've never been frustrated with him, but I am now. I'm in favor of Ziva becoming official at NCIS but Gibbs currently doesn't seem to be. I'm looking forward to next week's episode. It looks like we're finally going to get to know what happened to Ziva, at least in part. If you want to talk about any of the new episodes, just shoot me a message!


	25. Tony's Story

A/N: Hey there. So this is the "Tony's story" installment. I honestly am not sure how I feel about it. I'm presenting the story the best way I could think of. As always, if you don't like it, just hang in there, it gets much better. I am actually hoping to wrap this story up in the next three to five chapters. Please review if it tickles your fancy. It always brightens my day when you do. Thanks for those reviews from the previous chapter.

Oh, and same as last time, I'm going to talk about the new season at the end of this chapter, so if you haven't seen the most recent episode "Good Cop, Bad Cop" then I wouldn't read.

Ch. 25 Tony's Story

_Told in first person point of view of Tony DiNozzo...Basically, assume it's Tony speaking until otherwise indicated:-)_

_I took a deep breath, steadying myself to tell my story. Ziva looked at me patiently, but no less expectantly. So, I started..._

"There was yelling everywhere, all in Arabic. I'd killed Tariq to close the door. I shot him, like everyone else was doing. I was hoping to catch a ride on the chopper, but, man, the guns some of those guys were carrying were huge. Small, rocket launcher type stuff. I just knew that even if I did catch up with the helicopter, there would have been no way for all of us to escape. No way. So I shut the doors. It must have taken those guys a few moments to figure out what was going on because I didn't get shot in the back. No, it was when I turned around. As soon as I turned to face the hanger, all these shots hammered into me at once. It felt like I'd gotten hit by a train. I think the only saving grace was that they didn't hit anything mortally important.

Anyway, I fell behind some crates by the hanger door. Would believe my luck? One the terrorists who was shot early on was back there. He had a full belt of grenades. Somehow, I got the pins out of some and lobbed it over the crates. There must have been some explosions of some kind, but I honestly don't remember. I was ready to die, I felt so bad. Hey, don't scoff! I was! I know I'm practically a super hero these days, but I think twelve bullets would have done Captain America in. Next thing I know, I wake up in a bed. I didn't have one of those out of body, half in heaven experiences folk talk about. No, I woke up, was alive and hurt. I thought my body was on fire. I took seven to the chest, but got one in my thigh and was grazed all over. Someone must have heard me wake up, because then his old timer walks in, grumbling under his breath. He pulled me into a seated position and shoved a drink into my hand.

"Drink," he said. His voice was really accented, but I mean, I got the message. I didn't respond or drink so he grabbed the cup out of my hand. Before I could say anything, he tipped my head back and poured the stuff down my throat. Ziva, I swear I wanted to throw up. It was the nastiest think I think I've ever tasted. Some kind of weird herb mixture. But hey, instantly, I felt better. Or I hurt less at least. All in all, I fell back asleep. When I woke up, I could hear humming in the background. The old timer was sitting next to my bed, reading a magazine and humming to himself. He didn't even look at me when he began to speak.

"You're awake I see." he said. Now that I was a little more conscious, I could hear that his voice was deep an musical. It was like an Arabic Bing Crosby.

"Where am I?" I asked. Still he didn't look at me when he spoke.

"You are in Somalia. In fact, you are still in the air hanger. Now, tell me: what were you doing here and with such a dangerous group of people?" _I paused and looked at Ziva. I wasn't sure, but I decided not to spare any details. So, I went on._

"They had friend of mine. They weren't very nice to her. I had to come get her." I was really thirsty and as if he could read my mind, he handed me a cup of water. I drank as he questioned.

"Her...so your lady friend, she played damsel in distress?" he seemed kinda disinterested, but heck, I answered him anyway, and no, it wasn't because I love the sound of my own voice.

"She's hardly a damsel in distress. More like a Lady Knight who got stabbed in the back by her squire." I said. He smirked at me. Very much like Gibbs actually.

"So, if your lady is the knight, what are you? The jester?" I think he was actually laughing at me, at least on the inside.

"No," I countered, "I'm like the charming commoner, a rouge of a man. You know, strong, quick witted, devilishly handsome. Not to mention an excellent fighter. I offer a deeper level of companionship than any noble man could." Now he was laughing out loud. He put down his magazine and finally looked at me. For all his dark skin, his eyes were as blue as the sky.

"I have not met such an entertaining American in a long time, Anthony. You're identification card was in your pocket." He said, answering my next question.

"And your Lady Knight? Where is she?" he asked me.

"With any luck, on her way home." I told him. That's honestly what I was hoping. He just nodded and stood to his feet. I started to ask some questions.

"How am I still at the hanger? Why aren't I dead?"

"This hanger belongs to me. The men here now better than to dispute with me and some of my own...friends. I ordered them out, making them clean their mess as they did so. As to why you are not dead. In a former life, I was a doctor and a rather skilled surgeon. I would be very ashamed of myself if I let you die. Now, whether you survive is up to you."

"Look Mr..." I paused because I didn't know his name. He filled in by saying giving me Fharar. "Mr. Fharar. I just want to get home. I don't want to cause you or anyone any trouble." He just chuckled again and patted my arm.

"I do not believe you will cause trouble. Now, sleep some more. You need the rest." So I slept. I was in bed for about a month before he let me try walking. It took me two weeks to do so without collapsing. Fharar was nice enough to give me a cane at that point. Turns out I was being kept in some small living quarters attached to the hanger. For a while, I just walked around, getting used to my body again. Surprisingly, people came and went from the place often. About three months after you and Gibbs and McGee had left, I finally asked him what he was up to, him and his previously mentioned friends. We were having some Arabic dish for dinner at the time. He also turned out to be a great cook, and I've grown quite fond of Arabic food. I asked him and he sighed and pushed away his plate. He gave me one of his patient looks.

"Those that you have seen over the past three months in this airport are all part of an organization. We have no name. No country. No government allegiance. What unifies us is our desire for the violence of this land to stop. Not a one of us are untouched. Not one. Some have lost sons and daughters. Others parents and friends. Others have lost their livelihood, their homes. I myself have lost a son. We are tired of the games that the refuse of our society decide to play. The actions of the few are destroying the lives of the many. Your incident here is an example of that. None of us knew that Saleem and his men were holding a young Israeli woman prisoner. Or that a love sick American man would risk his life to find her, to save her. You are two infinitesimally small characters in the grand scheme of the world, yet here you are putting bullet holes in my airport hanger. The aim of my friends and I is to protect our people from the madness of terrorism that seeks to annihilate us. My role in this effort is ensuring that supplies are always available." he said. Needless to say I felt awed and guilty because of his logic. But he always seemed to read my mind, so he kept going.

"Anthony, you cannot apologize for something that you have absolutely no control over. And I do not expect you to. But, because you have an inarguable sense of honor and chivalry , I will give something for you to do that will make up for this debt that you really do not owe." Honestly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to stick around. I'd gotten the majority of my movement back. Sure, I was pretty stiff, but I wanted to come home then. But I just couldn't say no. I mean...he saved my life. I wouldn't have had a home to go back to without him. Not to mention, he seemed a little lonely. I call him old timer because he was. He must have been eighty years old. Young at heart, but worn down by the world. So I said yes.

So for the next month, I learned everything there is to know about small, single passenger cargo planes. It needed repair, and so that's what Fharar had me do. He told me everything and even showed me how to fly it... Actually, now that I think about it, that's twice that he's saved my life. But I'll get to that later.

So hold on, that gives me what, four months with Fharar, right? Well it was at the end of that month that well, everything changed. I _had _to start home. Turns out Hadar's, Tariq's, Saleem's, who ever they belong to; their guys showed up and well, it wasn't pretty. They tried to get into the hanger the first time. Fharar waved his cane at them, shouting in Arabic. They left that time, but Fharar pulled me aside to talk. It...it was the last real conversation we had. We had so many...I've never met a wiser man.

"Tony," he said "Those men will return very soon. You must promise me something: when they come back, you burn this hanger down. There is C4 inside the walls of this building, _inside._ I built it that way for a reason. It could be deadly for my people if those pigs gained control of this airstrip. Tony, _burn it and leave. _ You must escape and though it will be hard for to accept, you must leave without me. No, do not protest," he interrupted me sharply. Like always, he could read my mind. "Anthony DiNozzo. My wife died soon after she gave birth. My son, my only child, was the joy in my life. My most prized possession. I loved him completely. I was a doctor at the time and my son aspired to be like me. He was killed by those bastard's guns the very same day he received notification that he could go to medical school. The _same day! _My heart was ripped in two. I will not let these men do it again. They will not have another of my sons." He shoved a detonator in my hand and walked away at that point, not letting me respond at all. I knew where he kept his car, or jeep rather.

Turns out he was right. The men came back that night, this time with guns. I was working on the plane in the back of the hanger when commotion erupted in the front. The men had shoved Fharar into the hanger and were shouting, filing out to search for me with bullets. Fharar, bless his heart, attacked one the men with his cane. The guys turned back to him...they shot him. And all the while he was shouting for me to press the button. I must have, because the place began to explode. There was fire everywhere. Those guys, they ran out. I went to Fharar. I...I tried to move him. I couldn't do. I wasn't strong enough to pick him up. He just grabbed my hand in the fiercest grip and looked me in the eye.

"Thank you for letting me be your father for a while," he whispered. Somehow I heard him over the flames. I thanked him for... for letting me be his son for while. And then he was gone. Ziva, he was gone and I couldn't save him.

I got out of the hanger quick and got to the jeep. I just drove. I couldn't think or do anything else. I drove that jeep until there was no more gas. Then I just walked to the nearest city, my cane...Fharar's cane helping me along the way. I'd reached the tip of Somalia, on the Indian Ocean. I bartered a passage off of that country. Went north, through the Red Sea. Then we made port...in Egypt. That's when things got rough again. You're um, dear friends, Mossad, found out that a rather disheveled American booked passage out of Somalia. They were kind enough to greet me at the dock. They took me prisoner, Ziva. Dragged my ass to Cairo and kept me there. I thought I was screwed. I figured Hadar would want me dead and was behind it. But, odd as it may be, he never showed. Though they did talk about Israel and how quickly it would take to return there. Most they did was smack me around a couple of times when I talked to much. They asked no questions but they told me that I was guilty of interfering with an official Mossad operation in Somalia. I thought I was dead, but then you...you saved me.

One of the guards one night, he undid my handcuffs and gave me a handgun.

"Listen closely,"he said, "I will sound the alarm and notify my associates of your escape. But you'll actually have a chance to get away. We are at a private airstrip just outside of Cairo. They will expect you to get away by car or foot. On the other hand, I heard stories that an American in Somalia was seen flying a small aircraft. Mind, I care not for you. I am doing this for Ziva. I owe her too much to let one of her friends die." Just like that I was free. He'd given me my cane and I set off running. I was barely a hundred feet away from the building I was in until Mossad started shooting at me. I just shot over my shoulder and kept running. Your mystery man had a tiny plane all ready to go with instructions on where to head and land. And like that, I was gone. I went to Canada. I flashed NCIS credentials at the boarder and hitch hiked back here.

_Back to normal POV...whew, thank goodness._

Tony leaned back into the couch with a sigh, wiping his eyes. His heart ached for Fharar and he couldn't stop the flood of emotion that came over him when he thought about the man. Tony had never felt like a son to his own father, and so for Fharar to give him the title made him feel honored beyond words. Ziva had shifted position, laying with her back on the couch and her head on Tony's thigh. Tony aimlessly stroked her hair.

"So six months gone and most of it spent in that hanger?" asked Ziva after a while.

"Amazingly enough, yes. I realize that the story isn't the most exciting one out there, but hey, it is what it is." he replied, his voice low. Ziva grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently.

"I am happy that you are here to tell it, Tony." she replied her voice getting softer as she battled away sleep. Tony just smiled.

"Me too, my crazy ninja. Me too. Though, I don't think I'll tell it again. I'll tell Gibbs most of it I suppose, but that's it." Suddenly, a thought burst abruptly into Tony's head.

"You guys haven't replaced me have you? Because that would make McGee senior field agent and I don't think I can handle that right now." Ziva chuckled sleepily.

"We could not dream of replacing you Tony."

**Warning...new season comments below...you've been warned.**

A/N: First of, kudos to you logical ones out there who pointed out that Gibbs must have signed the papers if Ziva's application was to be rejected. Makes perfect sense. Anyway, I absolutely loved "Good Cop, Bad Cop". I think it's possibly one of the best episodes ever as far as team drama goes. I'd rank it up there with Hiatus Part 1 and 2. So, some of the things I really go a kick out of were 1) Tony's _Predator _rant., 2) "Team Ziva" w/ Abby and McGee 3) the "You are a woman" "You are a genius" line b/w Ziva and the boat Capitan. Overall favorite scene, though, was Gibbs interrogating Malachai Ben- Gidon and Ziva at the same time and the aftermath/ conclusion of Ziva's tale. I loved the bit where Gibbs tells Ben- Gidon that Ziva is off limits to him and Mossad. So, overall great episode in my opinion. Lemme know what you think!


	26. Never Alone

A/n: Happy Saturday! I hope everyone's week went spectacularly. If it didn't then I hope this week turns out better for you. Thanks for the reviews!

This is it. The last three chapters of Hatikva.

Ch. 26 Never Alone

Tony was greeted by a smack on the head and a smile from Gibbs, a handshake and half hug from McGee and full out bear hug coupled by sobs of joy from Abby. Tony accepted them all whole heartedly, relieved and overjoyed to be back. Even Director Vance spared him a small smile along with his assurance that Tony was still and NCIS Special Agent. Without a doubt, Tony was a hero and everyone at NCIS let him know. He'd intended to go to NCIS, fill Gibbs in, ask for his job status, and then quietly fill out a report on his experience. He was only able to complete the first two. Everyone at NCIS seemed to know the general story of what happened in Somalia and everyone wanted to know how Tony survived and made it back. Tony's responses were limited and were usually variations of "I was lucky. It's good to you see you." Ziva, who had been keeping back and letting everyone else get their fill of Tony yet never remaining out of eye distance, noted Tony's subdued remarks and as they walked to her car, asked him about it.

"I dunno, Ziva. A lot of what happened was luck and had nothing to do with me. Fharar did the work. I would have died without him. I dunno...it just feels wrong to take credit for something I didn't have all that much to do with." he responded. Ziva nodded in understanding. They drove in silence back to her home when she spoke again.

"You're time in the desert has served you well Tony. I remember a time when you would have puffed out your chest and...gloated about your survival. You would have made it sound like you had gone to hell and come back to reclaim your throne."

"Well, I think that DiNozzo got left in the desert. And I 'm kinda glad he's gone. You know, you're not unchanged either." Ziva instantly tensed up at his casual remark. She hadn't wanted the conversation to swing back to her. Sure, the others – Gibbs, McGee, Abby -- had seen her in the weakest state she could ever remember herself being in. But they'd seen her hospitalized, her wounds bound up. They'd seen after she'd had a little while to adjust to being free. Tony had _found _her. He found her when she had finally accepted death. He saw every mental and physical bruise, broken bone and cut Ziva had received and he had seen them fresh. Ziva avoided talking about herself because as much as she trusted Tony, she felt vulnerable with him.

"What do mean?" ventured Ziva noncommittally.

"You're...different. More human? That sounds meaner than what I'm trying to say. You're not as detached as you used to be. You used to keep your distance sometimes, keep your emotions back. There's a lot less of that now. You also smile more easily." Ziva did smile a little at his last comment. Then her face grew sombre.

"In the desert, I realized that I had spent to much of my life keeping me for me. I told about having the veil ripped from my face. It was painful. Sometimes it still is. But now...I feel as though for the first time, I have a family. It is a good feeling." Tony smiled and took Ziva's hand. Ziva responded by squeezing his hand gently and driving the rest of the way home in silence.

OoOoOoOo

Gibbs wasted no time in putting Tony to work. It seemed as though now that Tony was back in town, Navy and Marine crimes were allowed to pick up in capacity, as now Team Gibbs had the man power to handle it. The team worked as intensely as they ever had, fitting back into a regular rhythm as a hand slides into a familiar glove. Before longs weeks began to go by and everyone began to feel comfortable again. Some things were different: Tony lived with Ziva and wasn't even looking for his own apartment. Ziva went out for with the team after work more, without refusing as was her previous custom. Gibbs never mentioned rule twelve and actually smiled a little when he saw Tony and Ziva together.

Tony and Ziva had fallen into the habit of taking long walks after work to just talk and enjoy each others company. On one such night, Tony and Ziva were in Rock Creek Park when Tony realized they were at the very self same spot where he'd decided that he needed to rescue Ziva. He told Ziva as much and she actually laughed a little.

"You fell, Tony? Right here?"

"Yup. Went head over heels. And I just lay here on my back, looking at the stars, asking myself how I could have screwed up so bad. You know, I'd hurt the most beautiful girl in the world. I didn't think that she'd ever forgive me and then she disappeared." Used to Tony's comments, Ziva played along.

"And so this most beautiful girl. Did you find her?" she asked, a sly smile on her face.

"Oh yeah. Turns out she even forgave me too." Tony smiled as he pulled Ziva into a kiss. It would have lasted longer, had not the shout interrupted them.

"Freeze, CIA!" Suddenly Tony and Ziva were surrounded by a TAC team. Instantly, Ziva's instinct took over. She lashed out with foot and fist. Tony was a beat too slow, and was seized by two of the TAC team. They wrenched him back, separating him from Ziva's side. All the while he was shouting.

"Hey, we're NCIS Special Agents! We're NCIS, what are you guys doing?!?" Then as if in slow motion, he saw Ziva get thrown to the ground. That was when he really began to fight against his captors.

"Ziva! Let me go! Damn you...ZIVA!" Deciding that she couldn't be subdued my normal means, one of the TAC team members produce a stun rod, jabbing it into Ziva's back. She convulsed violently and then was still. Tony continued shout and fight against the guys holding him.

"Enough, DiNozzo!" rang out a clear English voice. Tony turned eyes of hate on Trent Kort.

"What the hell are you doing Kort?! Are you out of your mind?" Tony shouted.

"Shut it, DiNozzo," ground out Kort. "Answer your cell phone. Answer it!" Tony didn't realize until now that his phone was ringing. His eyes not leaving Kort's, he ripped it from his pocket.

"What?" he snarled.

"_DiNozzo, let Kort take Ziva. You'll get an explanation, but this has to happen!" _came Gibbs' urgent voice.

"Boss, I am _not _–,"

"_Damn it, Tony, trust me and do as I say! Let him take her and get your ass to NCIS now!" _the line went dead. Tony looked up with murder in his eyes.

"My boss says to let you gentlemen get on your way." he whispered. Kort gave no indication that he'd heard Tony. Tony's attention was then diverted to Ziva. The TAC team had her in cuffs and was dragging her away. Tony longed to change the situation. He longed to be with her, to fight for her. And now Gibbs wanted her to stand by as she was dragged away.

"Get going DiNozzo. It's going to be a long night."

OoOoOoOo

"Gibbs, what the hell is going on?!" exploded Tony as he burst from the stairwell. He was too keyed up for the elevator.

"Conference room DiNozzo," said Gibbs, indicating the elevator.

"No! I'm sick of conference rooms! I'm sick of secret meetings in autopsy with the bio- hazard light flashing! I'm sick of _secrets! _ So no more secrets. Secrets are what got Ziva almost killed! And now, you're telling me to go to a conference room while she's with Trent Kort." Gibbs went to Tony and practically dragged him to the elevator. He punched the button and threw Tony in when the doors opened. After he punched the emergency stop, he rounded on Tony.

"Tony, you need to listen. There's a situation. Something out of our realm of control. Mossad is gunning for Ziva and this time, they're doing it legally." Gibbs voice was harsh. He was desperate for Tony to calm down so he could explain the situation.

"What do you mean legally?" Gibbs had Tony's attention.

"Hadar is still Eli David's golden boy. Today, Hadar himself showed up at CIA headquarters. He says that he has proof that Ziva was participating in terrorist activities with intent to harm Israel. He wants her "extradited". Mossad has the leash on the CIA. If we don't deliver Ziva, it's aiding and abetting a foreign terrorist. And Hadar is sticking around to make sure the job gets done."

"Boss, he's going to kill her. We can't let him get to her. He'll finish the job!"

"That's why we're going to CIA headquarters now, DiNozzo. Hadar doesn't know the CIA has her yet."

"We're going to Langley?"

"Right now," finished Gibbs, punching the emergency switch.

OoOoOoO

Gibbs strode into the CIA interrogation observation room four hours later without any warning. He took a long look and the woman sitting on the monitor with her hands cuffed behind her back before addressing Kort. CIA interrogation was set up with video monitors. The observation room was several doors down from the actual interrogation room.

"You told me that you wouldn't rough her up. Why are you in charge of this again?" He said, his voice containing a slight edge. Ziva had a bruise on her jaw bone that was just beginning to spread.

"Sorry Gibbs. She fought back. My higher ups think I have a cozy rapport with NCIS so they picked me to deal with this. Ah, DiNozzo, long time no see." Kort's smile was as sarcastic as his voice. Tony just glared at him. "Don't glare at me so, DiNozzo. I'm saving your friend's life." Tony was about to speak but was silenced by a glare from Gibbs. Gibbs looked at Kort and nodded for him to continue.

"Mossad claims to have evidence that former Mossad Liaison Officer, Special Agent Ziva David, was not held prisoner in Somalia but rather participated in terrorist activities with the men who took her captive. That's right DiNozzo, captive. We happen to side with NCIS in this dispute. Furthermore, we have reason to believe the Senior Officer Amit Hadar has been participating in the organization of terrorist activities against Americans. The problem is, we have no concrete proof."

"No proof? You read Ziva's report, you must have. She gave you everything that he said to her, did to her. I saw him shoot her! What more evidence do you need?" asked Tony agitated.

"Real evidence, DiNozzo. Right now, it's David's word against all of Mossad. There is no way we can make a terrorist accusation based on one person's account of a story."

"You're using her as bait," said Gibbs in a quite voice. Tony looked from Gibbs to Kort and back again.

"No. No, Kort you can't. She's been through enough already. Amit Hadar will kill her. He tried and failed once and now you're giving him an open shot to do it again."

"Tony, it has to be done. Either we have Ziva get Hadar to talk or we send her back. Better to control the situation here, where we have jurisdiction. She'll be dead and buried before the plane lands in Tel Aviv otherwise." Tony could hear the pain in Gibbs voice as he spoke. He wanted to argue, but couldn't think of what to say. Kort filled the silence.

"Hadar has already been notified of her capture. He's already told me he wants to interrogate her so we'll let him. He should be here within the next half hour." Tony looked at Ziva in the screen. Her eyes were hard and distant. He hadn't seen that look since before she left. Tony could tell Ziva knew that she was their subject of discussion.

"Does she know?" asked Tony in a low voice.

"She's been briefed." replied Kort.

"Then can I talk to her? Alone?" asked Tony.


	27. Endless Waltz

Ch. 27 Endless Waltz

Ziva glanced up and back down as the door opened and shut. Every nerve in her body hummed in anticipation and dread. Tony noted her tension and ignored it. He leaned against the table in front of Ziva, just a foot of space between them. She kept her eyes down. Neither said anything. Finally Tony squatted down slightly in front of her. Gently, Tony placed one hand on the right side of Ziva's face and and used the other to tilt her head back and to the side.

"Tony, what are you doing," she muttered. Tony ignored her and scrutinized the bruise forming on her jaw. Then he leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to her jaw. Ziva winced slightly in pain, but the tension eked from her body. She leaned forward and rested her head in the crook of Tony's shoulder. Tony wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. After a while he leaned back and let her ease back into her chair. She looked up at him. Tony saw fear in her eyes.

"I love you Tony. It has taken me a long time to say it, but I do, with all my heart." Tony answered by kissing the top of her head.

"You're not alone Ziva. Gibbs and I, we've got your back this time." Tony walked to the door and looked back one last time.

"I love you too Ziva." And then he was gone.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Rage filled Tony when he saw Amit Hadar. Gibbs stood in front of the young man to keep him from jumping the Mossad officer. Hadar was flanked by two other Mossad officers.

"Amit Hadar. Welcome to Langley," said Kort stiffly.

Hadar ignored the man's greeting. "I demand a private interrogation with David." was all he said.

"No way in hell," replied Gibbs.

"This is not negotiable Agent Gibbs. As far as we are concerned, Ziva David is a rouge officer with intent to harm Israel. We represent the Mossad. As she is one of our officers, I demand a private interrogation. This not one of your cases Gibbs." Gibbs just glared at Hadar.

"Your men stay out here." replied Kort. Tony, wanted to scream with anger. He felt completely out of control.

"I'm sure you will make them quite comfortable in the observation room?"

"Of course," replied Kort stiffly. He hated being told what to do especially one his home field.

Tony led the way into interrogation, slamming the door open as he went. Gibbs followed as did Hadar's men, Kort brining up the rear. Before they could say anything, one of the men pulled out a silence pistol and shot the recording equipment several times. Gibbs, Tony and Kort reacted at the same time, but their movements were ceased when both man stood at the only door, both leveling a guns at the trio.

"Throw down your weapons. Now." said one of the men. None of the men moved. The guard who spoke responded by shooting Kort in the shoulder. The British man fell to the ground with a strangled yell. Gibbs took control immediately.

"Hey, enough, enough!" Gibbs took out his pistol and removed the clip, tossing both items at the guards feet. Tony did the same for himself and Kort, his eyes radiating hate and fear. Not fear for himself, but for Ziva. On the screen, the door to interrogation opened abruptly and slammed closed just as quickly. Wordlessly Amit Hadar pulled the other chair in the room in front of the door, jamming the back of it into the door handle. Slowly and with what Tony perceived as a satisfied grin, turned his murderous gaze on Ziva.

OoOoOoOo

Resolutely, Ziva did not look up as Hadar entered. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how nervous she was.

"So...Special Agent Ziva David." He started slowly. "That does run off the tongue easier that Mossad Liaison Officer to NCIS, Officer Ziva David. How do you like your new title?" Ziva remained silent. She was waiting for Hadar to reveal which method of "interrogation" Hadar was going to use. _It would either be physical or psychological, _thought Ziva, remembering Hadar's strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly she felt hands on her shoulders pull her and her chair back roughly against the wall. _Physical, then. As if I have not had enough, _she thought grimly.

"Answer me David! How does it feel? Knowing you betrayed your precious father? That you've walked out on him, that you failed him?" Ziva looked up sharply, an angry scowl on her face.

"He failed me Hadar. He trusted a lying bastard like you and would have left me in the desert to die! How does it feel for you Hadar, betraying _your _country to terrorists who would rather you be dead?" she snarled. The force of his backhand to her face made her world spin a little. She groaned inwardly. Provoking the man was the only way she'd get him to talk, but that meant a less than pleasant experience than she would have preferred for herself.

"You speak lies Ziva. Your father trusts me. I am not the one with evidence connecting me to terrorism. That is you my dear." Hadar's voice dripped poison and Ziva fumed. Still her father swallowed Hadar's lies and would leave her to die.

"On Mossad's word it is. Come on Hadar, you have known me long. Do I have the stomach to stoop to the level of terrorism?" Ziva played along with Hadar, matching mocking tone for mocking tone.

"You never had the stomach to do what was right Ziva. You simply followed orders. Your father's orders, Gibbs' orders. I will follow no orders, from anyone."

"What are your plans, Hadar?" Ziva asked. Hadar simply shrugged and began to pace.

"My plans, Ziva include bringing you home you know. Beyond that I cannot say." His voice was palpably sarcastic.

"Where do you plan to kill me? Here, or there?" Another strike to the face, this time a punch to the left cheek. Ziva grimaced in pain, but as before did not cry out.

"I see you have regained some of your fire Ziva. It looks as though our mutual friend failed to complete his job with you. It is a pity, but you know I like to see a job well done." Hadar reigned a series of blows on Ziva, mostly punches to the face and to the stomach. When he paused to take a breath, Ziva spat out a mouthful of blood. _Funny how I am not scared anymore._ She thought grimly.

She looked up at Hadar and let out a chuckle.

"Your punches still lack in luster Hadar. What is wrong? Not enough practice with your new friends? Oh that is right, you prefer lying and sneaking around to facing reality like man." This made Hadar snarl and throw a punch at Ziva's face, effectively breaking her nose for the second time in less than a year.

"Is that all you can do, hit me and swear?!" shouted Ziva. Finally, she let every terrible emotion for the man in front of her swell to the surface. She hated him with a passion that ran deeper than the hurt of betrayal. "Why are you here?! You could have escaped, been free. God knows Mossad can find no wrong with you. But you have come back. For what?! Why me Hadar?! Why couldn't you just let me be?!"

"Because I DO NOT FAIL! _Ever. _You would have been dead if not for your cocky American friend. But you lived! You survived, when you should have been dead." he yelled back. Spitting out more blood, Ziva simply laughed.

"This is about your pride Hadar? You could not kill me in Somalia and so now you come to America to finish the job. What, do you lose membership in your club if you allow the Mossad director's daughter to escape?" Now Ziva's voice dripped with sarcasm. Hadar glared at her, the veins in his neck throbbing with his anger.

"Admit to it Hadar. They say the truth will make you free do they not? What is the truth? Are you a traitorous Mossad officer, or a terrorist who failed an assignment who is now scrambling to preserve his perpetual arrogance?"

"You want truth, David? Truth is that Mossad is corrupt. Its director is blinded by his long list of cozy allies. Officers die because of false intelligence. They die, because instead of investigating ourselves, we trust the Americans. Truth is that there is a winning team that I am part of and it does not include Mossad. I will see Mossad and NCIS burn if it is the last thing I do. The incident with you and the desert, that was only the beginning. I failed to kill you then. I will not repeat that mistake. You call my acts terrorism; I call them retribution. No matter what happens now, I win." Hadar pulled out a handgun, cocking it.

Ziva let out a sigh of relief and a chuckle.

"Finally Hadar. At Mossad, we used to agree that your arrogance would be your downfall. Your Achilles heel. Turns out we were right."

"How is this my downfall, David? You are the one about to die."

"Again with the assuming arrogance. In Somalia, you were more cautious, made no assumptions. Now your pride seeks to destroy you."

"My pride? Like I said before Ziva, you would be dead if not for DiNozzo. There is no difference between now and then." He leveled his gun at Ziva's face. Ziva continued to give her lopsided smile.

"That is where you are wrong, my dear Hadar. The difference between last time, in Somalia, and this time, is that last time, you made sure I was bound to the chair in which I sat." Ziva raised both of her hands, a set of hand cuffs uselessly dangling from her right wrist. At last, while enjoying the look of surprise and fear that flashed in Hadar's face, Ziva was able to fight back.

OoOoOoO

Meanwhile, Tony had been watching the screen in anguish.. Every blow Ziva received from Hadar was like a stab to his own heart. He and Gibbs had bound Kort's arm best as possible sat on the opposite side of the room, facing the door. When Ziva started shouting at Hadar, he allowed himself a humorless smile. He was glad that Ziva would not break, but he feared that Hadar would kill her regardless of her determination.

When he heard Ziva's final laugh and saw her raise her hands triumphantly over her head, he knew it was time to move.

"Enough waiting Boss, she did her job." he whispered to Gibbs. Gibbs just nodded and pretended to scratch his back, really pulling out his back up weapon. He suspected long ago that the men holding them captive in the small room were not Mossad; no Mossad officer would be so foolish as to not check for back up weapons.

Tony stood to his feet, making a show of stretching and rolling his neck out. He sauntered over to the guards, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Hey guys I gotta use the bathroom. Meaning you have to step aside." he said when they didn't move. "Geez, are you guys really gonna be like this." He began rubbing his head as if contemplating his next move. Finally he just shrugged his shoulders.

"I gotta go." Fast as lightning, his hand struck out from behind his head and using the side of it, Tony struck the guard on his right in the neck on the carotid artery. The man crumbled into a heap. A split second after Tony lashed out, a gun shot filled the quiet room and the other guard collapsed, on of Gibbs bullets in his head.

"Let's move Tony!" shouted Gibbs. Both men bolted out of the room.

OoOoOoO

Ziva's first strike set Hadar's gun flying. Her second sent Hadar flying over the table. Unfortunately, Ziva's vision was slightly impaired by the blood flowing down her face from a cut from one of Hadar's punches. She did not see him pull the knife and grunted with surprise and pain when it lodged itself into the muscle just under her left collar bone. Hadar took advantage of her pause and lunged for his gun. Ziva however, would have gone of that. In two steps she was directly behind him and with all the strength she could muster, she slammed her foot onto his exposed right ankle, shattering the bone. Hadar yowled in pain. Ignoring the searing pain and fighting the nausea that it caused, Ziva pulled out the knife from her shoulder and flipped Hadar over to his back, and kneeling onto his chest, ramming her knee under his sternum. He tried to use his hands to dis lodge her, but just cut at him with her new knife, leaving open gashes in his palms.

"Why should I not kill you Hadar? You destroyed my life and would have killed me."

"You are not as cold blooded as you once were David," ground out Hadar with difficulty.

"No, I am not. And for that, Hadar, I am grateful. I will let them charge you as a terrorist. You will see how kindly Americans take to men who would destroy their soldiers." Ziva stood to her feet slowly, keeping her eyes locked on Hadar. For all he'd done to her, she couldn't kill him in cold blood. Nor did she want to. In Mossad she would have done so without second thought. She would never let herself be the heartless assassin again.

Hadar however, did not take her actions as a sign of mercy. With one last excursion of energy he pulled himself and grabbed his gun. He swung it up but was never allowed the chance to use it. The knife he'd foolishly allowed Ziva found it's resting place in Hadar's throat just as the door to interrogation burst open revealing a flustered looking Gibbs and Tony. Gibbs moved towards Hadar and lowered his gun when he saw the knife in his throat.

"Gibbs, I would have let him live to be tried. It was killed...or be killed." she said, with a desperate look at Gibbs. Gibbs just cocked and eyebrow at her.

"I know Ziva. You did good." he said with a small smile. Ziva allowed herself a sigh of relief and then her world spun around her. She have crumbled to the floor if Tony hadn't caught her. Gently he lifted her up and set her on the table. Vaguely, he heard Gibbs use his cell phone to call for an ambulance, both for Ziva and Kort.

Tony used his handkerchief to stem the blood flow from the knife wound and he used Gibbs' to wipe the blood from her face. Ziva winced under his ministration but allowed him to continued anyway. She was tired and leaning against Tony was comfortable. Gently he pulled out the wire that had been recording her conversation with Hadar. It transmitted to equipment that was not even in the observation room where Tony, Gibbs and Kort had been held.

"Ziva, you have to stay awake." he whispered. She knew the logic in his words and leaned back slightly to look up at him. She gave him the best smile she could manage.

"It is over now, yes?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful. Tony smiled in return.

"Yeah sweet cheeks. It's over. You're free."


	28. Epilogue

Epilogue

_One year after Ziva's rescue, in the autumn_

"Ziva will you hurry up? We're gonna be late!" shouted Tony as he paced in front of the front door. He was wearing a dark red turtle neck, dark blue jeans and a leather jacket. The weather had turned cold.

"I am coming, DiNozzo." Came Ziva's voice. Tony stopped and starred, and then relaxed into a comfortable smile. She wore tight black jeans that accents her curves and a long sleeve blouse that let just a hint of cleavage show through. It was simple clothing, but Tony loved it anyway. Ziva dawned a leather jacket to match Tony's. She smirked at his expression.

"I'm glad you see something you like," she said as she passed him on the way out of the apartment.

"Oh yeah," he said as he closed the door behind them. In the car Ziva let her face settle into a pout.

"I still do not see why we have to go to this Tony. I do not like attention." she said for what must have been the hundredth time. Tony just chuckled.

"Well, regardless of what you think, Ziva, we're all very happy that you're home and here to stay. Let yourself be an excuse for us to celebrate. You know, this job doesn't usually give that chance." Ziva sighed, resigned.

OoOoOoO

"A toast," said Gibbs over the loud music in the club. Everyone-- McGee, Tony, Abby, Ducky, and Palmer-- raised their preferred drinks.

"A year ago, Ziva, we almost lost you. Now that you're here, we're never gonna let you go. Ever. To family." said Gibbs. The table cheered and tapped glasses and bottles. They were at a new club in the downtown area and they spent their night dancing away and just having fun. Finally, at one in the morning, they parted for the night, going their separate ways.

Back at her apartment, Tony turned on some soft, slow music and held out his hand to Ziva. Despite her fatigue from dancing the whole night long, she obliged Tony and willingly. She loved being close to him, loved the feeling of his arms around her. Slowly they danced to the music. After a while, Tony broke the silence.

"Ziva, how long to you want me to stay here, living with you?" Ziva's eyes snapped open and she stiffened slightly. Tony gave no indication of stopping their dance and so she continued. Her mind however, was in uproar. She'd never imagined Tony actually leaving.

"Ziva?" he asked.

"Well, Tony, I do not want you to do anything that you don't want to." she replied, evading his answer. Tony didn't buy it.

"This isn't about me Ziva. It's about you. How long to _you _want me to stay?" the continued to dance. Ziva's head was resting on Tony's shoulder and she gave her answer some thought.

"I...want you to stay forever Tony. I have never thought about you leaving and I do not want to." she whispered slowly. Her head where it was, she couldn't see Tony's looked of joy and relief. Gently he broke away from her and still holding her hands, he moved her to sit on the couch. He, however, did not sit down. Instead he dropped to one knee, still holding Ziva's hands. He let forth on of his brilliant smiles.

"I was hoping you' say that David." From the pocket of his pants, he pulled out a simple silver ring with a small diamond. Ziva's breath caught in her throat.

Tony took a deep breath and looked up at Ziva.

"Ziva David, will you marry me?" his voice was quiet, but strong. Ziva let herself slide onto her own knees and captured Tony's lips in a kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. When they finally broke apart, Ziva whispered in his ear.

"Yes."

A/N: And thus this story comes to and end. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review!!

Also, I just had a thought and was wondering if anyone else had any opinions...so okay, you know how in season 7 Saleem had been asking Ziva about NCIS? Well, I was wondering how he found out she was NCIS. If she charged off into his camp alone without any sort of Id marking her as NCIS, how did he know? I think I smell a mole...


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